Helen 
 
 * 
 
 ARTHUR SHERBURNE H.4RDY 
 
VI -u~k 
 
HELEN. A Novel. 
 
 DIANE AND HER FRIENDS. ANovel. Illustrated. 
 
 HIS DAUGHTER FIRST. ANovel. 
 
 THE WIND OF DESTINY. A Novel. 
 
 BUT YET A WOMAN. A Novel. 
 
 PASSE ROSE. A Novel. 
 
 JOSEPH HARDY NEESIMA A Biographical Sketch. 
 With Portraits. 
 
 HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
 
HELEN 
 
ARTHUR SHERBURNE HARDY 
 
 BOSTON & NEW YORK 
 
 HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 
 
 The Riverside Press Cambridge 
 
 1916 
 
HELEN 
 
 i 
 
 A LITTLE girl, with bare brown feet and an orange- 
 colored scarf tied about her head, was looking at 
 him, from amid her sheep behind the hedge of 
 agaves, with the dull curiosity of the peasant. 
 What warmth of crimson color glowed under the 
 olive skin! What soft depths there were in the 
 wondering eyes! He thought of the shrivelled 
 faces of the women he had seen bending over the 
 washing- trough below the bridge over the Nervia. 
 While there was yet time he would put a little joy 
 into this one. 
 
 He took a silver franc from his pocket and held 
 it out in his hand. The stocky little figure did not 
 move. He advanced a few steps, his arm ex 
 tended. Her sheep, alarmed, scattered down the 
 hillside, and still she did not move. He put the 
 franc gently in her hand, smiling. The hand 
 closed over it, mechanically, like a trap, but the 
 face remained stolid. Then, suddenly, possessed 
 by some unknown emotion, she turned and ran, 
 as if pursued by one of the wolves which winter 
 drives down from the mountains. He watched her 
 orange-colored scarf till it disappeared among the 
 
 3 
 
HELEN 
 
 chestnut trees, then pushed on westward through 
 Ventimiglia. 
 
 He had left the steamer at Genoa in the early 
 morning and taken the first train for Nice. But at 
 Bordighera, tired of dust and smoke and tunnels, 
 he had escaped from his overcrowded compart 
 ment, resolved to walk, at least as far as Mentone. 
 After the confinement of the voyage the freedom 
 of the long white road, winding through town and 
 village between the mountains and the sea, ap 
 pealed to him. 
 
 Young and vigorous of limb, his stride aston 
 ished the idlers lolling over the stone parapets, 
 below which the fishermen tugged at their black 
 nets. Yet business he had none, for the moment, 
 beyond the joy of fresh air and curiosity as to 
 what new reach of shore and sea the next bend 
 of the road would disclose. Ultimately, indeed, 
 there was business ahead, somewhere on the wind 
 ing road business viewed with a certain exhil 
 aration of expectation, not wholly free from dubi 
 ousness, business man though he was, accustomed 
 to assume new responsibilities with the confidence 
 of the much-occupied who have always time for 
 everything. 
 
 The sun was already low as he climbed the crest 
 under the precipices above the Villa Fontana. 
 The shadows on the eastern slopes of the hills 
 behind Mentone were deepening from blue to 
 black. 
 
HELEN 
 
 As he reached the gate of the villa a glitter of 
 light on the road surface caught his eye. Stooping, 
 he saw a small cross set with diamonds. 
 
 He put the jewel in his pocket and walked on, 
 as if he were in the habit of picking up diamonds 
 on the roadside. 
 
 Just then a boy in knickerbockers, a small 
 cap on the back of his head, came out from the 
 gate, his body bent forward in the attitude of 
 search. 
 
 "Have you lost anything, my boy?" 
 
 "Have you found anything?" 
 
 The man smiled. 
 
 "You are an American, are n t you?" 
 
 "You are, too, are n t you?" 
 
 The man smiled again. The ready answers 
 came back like echoes. 
 
 "Yes, I ve found something. What have you 
 lost?" 
 
 "I have n t lost anything. But Helen has." 
 
 "We ll go and find Helen, then," said the man 
 tranquilly. He seemed to have found more than 
 the jewel in his pocket. 
 
 The boy made no reply. He appeared to be 
 made of the same self-possessed stock, pushing 
 aside the half-open gate with an air of ownership. 
 
 "I will wait here," said his companion. 
 
 The boy looked up in quick surprise. What sort 
 of a person did he think Helen was a little 
 girl? 
 
HELEN 
 
 " You don t expect Helen to come out here, do 
 you?" he said, frowning. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 Surprised, but not disconcerted, the boy studied 
 the grey eyes of the stranger for a moment, then 
 ran down the path and disappeared in the shrub 
 bery. In the distance his voice could be heard 
 crying* Helen! Helen !" 
 
 " I suppose there is more than one Helen in the 
 world, * the man muttered. But what a coin- 
 cidence ! 
 
 A gardener, touching his hat, motioned obsequi 
 ously to the stone seat by the wing-wall. The 
 muttering stranger was clearly not of his race and 
 deserved consideration. 
 
 Presently, at the end of the trellised walk, bor 
 dered and roofed with blossoms, Helen appeared 
 with her brother. That they were brother and 
 sister he knew from the resemblance. There was 
 also the same absence of all self-consciousness. . 
 
 He rose as she came nearer, but without going 
 forward to meet her. Even in the dusk of the trel 
 lis the charm of her face made its appeal to him. 
 From the deep surrounding shadows it stood out 
 as from the dark background of a picture. 
 
 The girl spoke first, with the same unstudied 
 directness as her brother. 
 
 "My brother says he thinks you have found my 
 
 cross." 
 
 1 Is this it ? " he asked, taking it from his pocket. 
 6 
 
HELEN 
 
 "Yes, certainly." The face lit up wonderfully. 
 It was my mother s. Grandmamma lends it to 
 
 me." 
 
 " If it was your mother s, why does your grand 
 mother only lend it to you?" 
 
 She drew herself up with a quick resentment, 
 and as suddenly relented, the shadow of a smile 
 passing through her eyes. The question was so 
 direct, yet so absolutely logical, that it touched 
 her sense of humor. 
 
 "Won t you come in and allow her to thank 
 you?" she parried. 
 
 "If any thanks were needed, yours were quite 
 sufficient." 
 
 It was not a compliment, but a statement of 
 fact, and the smile came back to her eyes. 
 
 " I never expected to see it again. It seems too 
 wpnderful " 
 
 "Oh," he interrupted, "it was bound to be 
 found by some one, lying there in the road." 
 
 The smile deepened to amusement. Was he 
 indifferent, or was he going to apologize for finding 
 it at all? 
 
 "Yes, of course, by some one " 
 
 " I call it luck," broke in the boy. " I believe in 
 luck, don t you?" 
 
 The man shook his head. 
 
 "Not enough to count upon it," he said, turning 
 to the gate. 
 
 "But I can t let you go in this way," she said 
 
 7 
 
HELEN 
 
 impulsively. Every defect in her face was for 
 gotten when she spoke. " I have n t thanked you 
 myself yet, and I can t give you a louis as if you 
 were a peasant." 
 
 "If you did I assure you I should take it not 
 as a reward, as a souvenir." 
 
 She flushed at his directness, but it was too 
 natural to be offensive. In spite of his matter- 
 of-factness he had roused again her sense of 
 humor. 
 
 "Please, Helen," the boy broke in once more, 
 "may I go as far as the bridge?" 
 
 She glanced from the boy s eager face to the 
 man s quiet one. 
 
 He answered for her. 
 
 " Certainly, if you don t mind my long strides." 
 
 She made another effort. 
 
 " It seems so little just to say thank you. 
 
 41 It only seems so " Then the gates closed be 
 tween them. 
 
 "So that s Helen." 
 
 "Yes," said his companion in the same busi 
 nesslike tone, "that s Helen. You see," he ex 
 plained as he trudged beside his new acquaint 
 ance, "I don t see many Americans." 
 
 "No?" 
 
 "Hardly any. Of course it s beautiful, and all 
 that but there s nothing to do. What s your 
 name?" 
 
 8 
 
HELEN 
 
 There was no curiosity in the question, only 
 the desire to put acquaintance on a better foot 
 ing. 
 
 "Fearing." 
 
 "Mine s Jack." 
 
 The absence of curiosity on both sides was strik 
 ing. Each took the other for granted. 
 
 After a pause, and with evident amusement: 
 
 " It s lucky you were n t a peasant. I don t be 
 lieve Helen had a louis." 
 
 "Does n t she have many?" 
 
 He betrayed no guilt of indiscretion in asking 
 the question, and clearly Jack detected none, for 
 the answer came instantly. 
 
 "Only when grandmamma gives her one. You 
 see, we re poor." 
 
 "Oh, I see," said Fearing, taking the boy s 
 hand in his. He was wondering whether poverty 
 sat as lightly on Helen s shoulders. 
 
 They walked on for a time in silence. Jack was 
 the first to break it. 
 
 "Helen played for me once in the Casino at 
 Nice while grandmamma was having tea, and I 
 won two francs." 
 
 "You seem to have good reasons for believing 
 in luck." 
 
 "Yes. Helen would n t own up to it. She pre 
 tends she did it just to please me. But I know she 
 would love to play herself. Did you ever try your 
 luck?" 
 
HELEN 
 
 "Not at Nice, Jack." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 "Nowhere where the chances were dead 
 against me," he added. 
 
 Jack lapsed into thoughtful silence. 
 
 "Did you come from Mentone?" 
 
 "No, from Bordighera." 
 
 "Whew! That s a good long walk. Why did 
 n t you get a motor?" 
 
 "I have one. It s on the dock at Genoa." 
 
 Jack was not impressed. The dust-stained 
 shoes had not deceived him. 
 
 "Helen and I walk a good deal too," he volun 
 teered; then added cheerily, "We have to." 
 
 At the frontier Fearing dropped the hand in 
 his. 
 
 "Here s the bridge, Jack. You know you 
 promised " 
 
 "Oh, I always keep my promises to Helen," 
 came the quick reply. 
 
 "Is that because you only make those you in 
 tend to keep, or is Helen the reason?" 
 
 Jack looked up with a puzzled expression on 
 his young face. It was quite clear that he was 
 proud of his sister, and that keeping faith with 
 her was nothing to boast of. 
 
 "I don t see any difference," he said, breaking 
 into a laugh. "Good-bye. It s a funny old bridge, 
 is n t it. Is your car an American one? I d like 
 to see it sometime." 
 
 10 
 
HELEN 
 
 "You will, Jack. Good-night." 
 
 Under the palms on the promenade in Men- 
 tone Fearing found a motor, and gave the order, 
 " Nice." 
 
II 
 
 JACK had returned from the Pont St. Louis in 
 high spirits. So far as Helen could discover there 
 was no particular reason for his enthusiasm ex 
 cept that he liked Mr. Fearing. 
 
 "Don t you?" he asked. 
 
 " I have n t made up my mind yet, Jack." 
 
 "Why, Helen, you don t have to make up your 
 mind when you like anybody. You just like them 
 or you don t." 
 
 Helen laughed. So his name was Fearing. 
 Jack admitted that he had asked him. And had 
 he reciprocated Mr. Fearing s confidences? He 
 could not exactly remember. He had merely vol 
 unteered the information that his name was Jack 
 to facilitate conversation. Had Mr. Fearing 
 asked any questions? No, nothing in particular. 
 She teased him a little over this one-sided ac 
 quaintance, but without shaking his assurance. 
 Mr. Fearing had said they should see each other 
 again. 
 
 "He promised to show me his car, and he said 
 good-night when I said good-bye, " Jack as 
 serted. 
 
 "You dear, hopeful boy," she laughed. 
 
 "I wish I was going to America with him." 
 
 Helen took the boy s hand in her own with a 
 12 
 
HELEN 
 
 caressing gesture. She was the repository of all 
 his many hopes and few woes. His wish was pre 
 posterous, but she made no comment. Contact 
 with his own race always set Jack s blood on fire. 
 With the dream which haunted his mind she was 
 in sympathy, a sympathy against whose impo 
 tence she was in constant revolt. Was it to re 
 main forever a dream? 
 
 Her thought reverted to the incident of the 
 day. It certainly was an extraordinary thing 
 the finding of her cross. At first she had been 
 quite sure that she had lost it in the garden, but 
 search had proved fruitless. And then Jack had 
 remembered that she had gone to the gate with 
 the Princess Ghica. What a dear, fascinating 
 woman Aunt Tatia was, in spite of her plain face 
 with its little flat nose, like the faces in Persian 
 pictures. And what a life she had had, with her 
 husband on his mission to Siberia, travelling in 
 far-away, mysterious regions, living in huts cov 
 ered with skins, in log dugouts on unmapped 
 rivers, riding long days on a cavalry saddle with 
 strange tribesmen. What a contrast to the mo 
 notonous life of the Villa Fontana! She glanced 
 over to her grandmother, reading quietly at the 
 far end of the room. In some indefinable way 
 she felt that the monotony had been broken. 
 
 What an abrupt manner he had! "If it was 
 your mother s, why does your grandmother only 
 lend it to you?" 
 
 13 
 
HELEN 
 
 Curled up in the big chair by the fire, she smiled 
 again. The question had gone to the root of the 
 matter, like a knife yet it was not an imper 
 tinence. If she had not asked it herself in so 
 many words, it was not for that reason absolutely 
 unfamiliar. The wonder was, not that he, the 
 stranger, should have dared to ask it, but that he, 
 the stranger, should have instantly laid his hand 
 on the very heart of her secret life, of the thought 
 unspoken. How had he dared, what right had he, 
 to ask it? and above all, why? with that quiet air 
 of authority! Yet she had not resented it. It was 
 so amusing, and so refreshing, like a cool breeze 
 from the sea. She was tired of tepid speeches. 
 The image of little M. Hermite, with his flow 
 ered waistcoat and insinuating voice, crossed her 
 mind. 
 
 "Grandmamma, did you ever know any one 
 by the name of Fearing?" 
 
 The Fearings? Certainly. It was a very dis 
 tinguished New England family, which had for 
 merly rendered important services to the coun 
 try. She remembered the elder Fearing perfectly 
 a very courtly gentleman of the old school. 
 There was a son, whom she had seen occasionally 
 when he was a boy. He ought to have followed 
 the family traditions and gone into the public 
 service. But the times had changed. Gentlemen 
 did not enter the public service any longer, or, if 
 they did, the muddy waters of politics, the mean- 
 
 14 
 
HELEN 
 
 nesses necessary to political success, soon ren 
 dered them unrecognizable. For nowadays no 
 one regarded politics as a public service, but only 
 as a means to private ends. The honest man, 
 fearless enough to remain unsoiled by the conta 
 gion of his company, was paid for his integrity 
 with defeat. She believed that after leaving the 
 university young Fearing had gone into business. 
 She had heard that he had been very successful 
 that is, had become immensely rich. To the 
 younger generation success meant wealth. 
 
 She spoke with a mild disdain, as one associ 
 ated with a past age whose manners and idols 
 had had their day. 
 
 In the deep chair before the fire Helen sighed. 
 She was familiar with that air of detached interest 
 which stood like a wall between her and life. 
 
 "You know, it was a Mr. Fearing who found 
 my cross to-day." 
 
 "Really." 
 
 "Yes. Jack walked with him as far as the St. 
 Louis bridge. He told Jack his name was Fear- 
 ing." 
 
 "Very likely. Everyone comes to the Riviera 
 sooner or later." And Mrs. Lee resumed her 
 book. 
 
 It clearly meant nothing to her grandmother 
 no, nor to her either. Why should it? Yet some 
 thing of Jack s optimism lingered. "You don t 
 have to make up your mind when you like any- 
 
 15 
 
HELEN 
 
 body. You just like them or you don t." Perhaps 
 Jack was right. Perhaps there was a surer, swifter 
 instinct, which scorns the commonplace prelimi 
 naries to intimacy, a voice from the crowd one 
 sees without seeing, heard and answered even 
 against the will. 
 
 The book had fallen into the lap and the eyes 
 were closed. Opening the low window she stole 
 noiselessly out into the garden. 
 
 The garden! How her grandmother loved its 
 every tree and shrub and flower ! She had wanted 
 to escape from the stifling oppression of that si 
 lent room, and now, in the garden, she wanted to 
 escape from the oppression of the garden itself. 
 It might have been a spot in which they walked 
 together, but by none of its paths had she ever 
 found her way to her grandmother s affection. 
 That was the truth. She had never realized it as 
 keenly as she did tonight. If it were not for Jack, 
 and the Princess Ghica 
 
 She went slowly down to the seat by the wa 
 ter s edge where the sea opened between the 
 oleanders in all its level splendor. Little waves 
 lapped against the black rocks and fell back 
 again always back again. It seemed as if the 
 next one, rippling in so bravely under the moon 
 light, would bring something some news, from 
 the far spaces where sea and sky met. 
 
 The night was chilly and she stole back again 
 to the warmth of the fire. Jack had gone to bed. 
 
 16 
 
HELEN 
 
 She would go up and see if he was asleep. Her 
 sense of responsibility for Jack was strong. 
 
 "Helen." 
 
 "Yes, grandmamma/ 
 
 "My eyes are tired. Will you finish this chap 
 ter for me?" 
 
 She went over to the reading-lamp and took 
 the open book " The Recollections of a Quiet 
 Life." 
 
Ill 
 
 IT was nearly ten o clock that evening when 
 Fearing, having motored over from Mentone, fin 
 ished his dinner at the Hotel Majestic in Nice. 
 Strolling down the corridor he stopped before the 
 display of jewelry in the vitrine at the entrance 
 to the salon. From the vitrine his glance wan 
 dered over the room, filled with that cosmopoli 
 tan medley of men and women that haunts the 
 fashionable hotels of the Riviera in the season. 
 A half-dozen scarlet-coated musicians were doing 
 their utmost to render conversation impossible. 
 Should he go in and study humanity, or retire to 
 his own room? 
 
 Just then he caught sight of a lifted arm and 
 the beckoning sign of a hand sparkling with rings. 
 The Princess Ghica ! He made his way slowly be 
 tween the crowded tables with an answering sign 
 of recognition. 
 
 "You here!" she exclaimed as he came up, 
 " in this dull place! what a chance! Sit down and 
 talk to me." 
 
 She gathered up her train, pushing the vacant 
 chair toward him. The thought that the burden 
 of conversation would not rest upon him crossed 
 his mind. 
 
 "I did n t know any place was dull where you 
 18 
 
HELEN 
 
 were, Princess," he said, moving the gauze scarf, 
 the cigarette case, and the fan from the chair to 
 the table. "Are you alone?" 
 
 " No, Dimitri has gone to the Casino. We have 
 promised to go to the ball at the Prefecture 
 but there is an hour yet." 
 
 "I thought you were in China, or Thibet, 
 or " 
 
 " Merci, for the compliment! You exile me as 
 far away as possible. But yo u, in Nice it is un 
 thinkable." 
 
 " I landed this morning in Genoa. Am I so out 
 of place?" 
 
 "You are certainly the last person I expected 
 to see here. What is it? not health, surely or 
 have you abandoned money-making?" 
 
 Fearing laughed. 
 
 "You have a very sordid opinion of me. But 
 you are right. I am here on business of a kind. 
 Not the money-making kind, however," he added. 
 
 "Business, the everlasting business," echoed 
 the Princess, with her queer little accent. "One 
 would suppose we were in New York again." 
 
 "I hope you don t bear New York too much 
 malice." 
 
 " I? on the contrary, I adore it. But your coun 
 try is so expensive for a poor Secretary." 
 
 "You make a very pretty picture of indigence," 
 said Fearing, taking up the gold cigarette case. 
 " I remember your Samos cigarettes. May I have 
 
 19 
 
HELEN 
 
 one? Suppose you tell me now what you are doing 
 in Nice. Are you on leave?" 
 
 "Worse than that, much worse. We are en dis- 
 ponibilite! But we are hoping for Petersburg." 
 
 * * And meanwhile * 
 
 " Meanwhile we are waiting, eating out the life, 
 as you say in English. You are not taking coffee? 
 No? Shall we go to the Casino and find Dimitri? " 
 
 "If you wish." 
 
 "But I see you do not wish. You are right. It 
 is a bore. We will sit here and talk business." 
 
 "Obviously your opinion of me has changed 
 since you left Washington. You did not over 
 whelm me with contempt in those days." 
 
 "Ah, but I have had informations about you." 
 
 "Informations? Am I on the list of your po 
 lice?" 
 
 "Very bad informations." She nodded gravely. 
 "In those days you were not rich." 
 
 He was familiar with the Princess s indiscre 
 tions, easily condoned, because of her good na 
 ture. But the remark jarred a little. He did not 
 wear his money on his sleeve. 
 
 She leaned forward on the table with a serious 
 air of friendly interest, quite indifferent to the 
 effect of her frankness. 
 
 "Why do you not give up this money-making 
 have you not enough?" 
 
 Her quick interest in the thing or person in 
 hand was one of her charms. 
 
 20 
 
HELEN 
 
 "It s not as easy to drop one s responsibilities 
 as it is to change posts, you know," he said quietly. 
 
 "So you will go on in this way, without pleas 
 ure " he made a gesture of dissent without 
 rest, then tourmente, all your life, to the end. 
 Truly, I cannot how do you say make you 
 out. To be a slave all one s life!" 
 
 His point of view was so radically different that 
 he made no serious attempt to answer her. 
 
 "Men have to pay with work the price of power 
 for which women pay nothing," he said simply. 
 
 She looked at him narrowly for a moment, then 
 changed the subject with her usual abruptness. 
 
 "And you have not married?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "You are resolved against it. I see that plainly. 
 You do not know the proverb of Siberia the 
 little smile of a woman will undo in an instant 
 what a man with all his energies accomplishes in 
 a lifetime. Some day a woman will smile upon 
 you and you will be undone." 
 
 11 You add fresh terrors to Siberia, Princess." 
 
 "Ah, Siberia!" she sighed, with one of her 
 swift revulsions. "I wish I were there. But it 
 spoils the complexion. See how it has ruined 
 mine." 
 
 Looking into the piquant face, he was thinking 
 how much more interesting it was than mere 
 beauty. Little of that did she have, but one rarely 
 thought about it and never missed it. 
 
 21 
 
HELEN 
 
 " I refuse to condole with you," he said, laugh 
 ing. 
 
 She laughed too, frankly pleased, blowing 
 away the smoke between them and half closing 
 her long narrow eyes Tartar eyes, as she her 
 self called them, like those of Gogol s horsemen 
 peering above the tall grasses of the steppes. 
 
 "No, I was not fishing. It is true, it is quite 
 spoiled. Do you stay long in Nice?" 
 
 " I think not. A day or two perhaps." 
 
 " You amuse me, calculating time so carefully! 
 You are in Nice, man ami. In Nice time is not 
 money." 
 
 "If you insist on dragging in money any more 
 I shall believe you think more of it than I do." 
 
 "Oh, but I think of it only because I have so 
 little. If I had much I should not think of it at 
 all." She raised her hand to summon a passing 
 waiter. "A green chartreuse two?" Fearing 
 shook his head. She took another cigarette, offer 
 ing him the open case, then settled back in her 
 chair. "What are you going to do with your day 
 or two ?" 
 
 " I should be very glad to put one of them at 
 your disposal." 
 
 She sat up with the eager animation of a child. 
 
 "Really you will do that? Bravo! Dimitri 
 goes to Monte Carlo to-morrow for the shooting 
 of pigeons. You will breakfast with me on the 
 terrace at one, and afterwards let me think 
 
 22 
 
HELEN 
 
 shall we go to Le Laghet and sit under the cy 
 presses?" 
 
 41 You take a weight off my mind, Princess. I 
 was afraid you were going to say Monte Carlo. 
 Let us go to Le Laghet by all means." 
 
 " You fear Monte Carlo ? " 
 
 " I? Not in the least. I detest the atmosphere. 
 I am not a gambler." 
 
 "Fie!" she exclaimed between sips of her char 
 treuse, "one does not use such horrid words. One 
 plays, one does not gamble." 
 
 "Do you make these fine distinctions in self- 
 defense?" 
 
 "I make them because I am so amiable. Oh, 
 once in a while, a few francs, as one wastes a few 
 francs over a vaudeville. But napoleons, never! 
 it is not worth it. But I have reflected. Le 
 Laghet is too sad. We will go to the Villa Fon- 
 tana. Do you know the Villa Fontana?" 
 
 "The Villa Fontana," he repeated slowly; "no." 
 
 " So much the better. It has a wonderful gar 
 den, and belongs to one of your countrywomen. 
 You do not object to meeting your country 
 women? " 
 
 "Why should I?" 
 
 "Then it is settled. And at the Villa Fontana I 
 will show you Helen." 
 
 There was a note of promise in her announce 
 ment to which she observed Fearing made no re 
 sponse. What the expression on his face indi- 
 
 23 
 
HELEN 
 
 cated was not clear, but she interpreted it with 
 out hesitation after her own fashion. 
 
 "You know Helen!" 
 
 " I fell in with a boy on the road yesterday. He 
 said his sister s name was Helen" and then 
 again "but I suppose, there is more than one 
 Helen in the world." 
 
 "The man who knows this Helen will not see 
 the others," she said decisively, tapping the table 
 with her fan. "But how extraordinary! You 
 landed in Genoa this morning and already " 
 
 " Nothing is extraordinary when it is explained," 
 he interrupted. "Yes, I landed in Genoa this 
 morning, early. I left my man on the quay, wor 
 ried with customs officials over my motor, and 
 took the first train, a very stuffy train, over 
 crowded and crawling most of the time in tunnels. 
 I abandoned it at Bordighera in search of air and 
 sun and walked to Men tone, where I got a car and 
 motored here after dark. On the road I met a 
 boy, a very interesting boy, who presented me to 
 a young lady he said was his sister or perhaps 
 I inferred it. It was rather dark under the trees, 
 but I might describe her sufficiently to identify 
 her, if you wish me to try." 
 
 "Do," she said, with rising curiosity; "it will 
 be amusing to hear you describe Helen. I myself 
 would not even attempt it." 
 
 Fearing took up the gold cigarette case, finger 
 ing the monogram thoughtfully. 
 
 24 
 
HELEN 
 
 " I had better approach the subject cautiously, 
 then," he said. "Shall I begin with the boy? Just 
 a plain boy, buoyant, frank, self-reliant, quite un 
 conscious of being natural, but with nqne of the 
 precocity that robs childhood of its charm and 
 very much in love with his sister. One knows just 
 what sort of a man such a boy will make. We 
 understood each other from the outset. " 
 
 She nodded, closing her eyes; then opened them 
 wide again. 
 
 "Yes, that s Jack. Goon." 
 
 He hesitated a moment, taking refuge in an 
 other cigarette, then he said quietly, 
 
 "I should rather say another Jack modified 
 by sex." 
 
 She made an impatient gesture. 
 
 "That s an evasion, not a description." 
 
 "It was too dark for details, Princess." 
 
 "But you saw something tell me what you 
 
 saw." 
 
 A vision of the slender figure advancing under 
 the trellis came back to him. 
 
 "Race," he said, looking up; "the quality that 
 would have marked her for the guillotine in the 
 Revolution merely because the rabble have n t 
 got it, and which would have taken her up its 
 steps without flinching." 
 
 She drew a long breath of relief. 
 
 "You see very well in the dark better than 
 you know. Tell me what else you saw." 
 
 25 
 
HELEN 
 
 "Many things," he laughed. "A keen sense of 
 humor, self-control, self-will " 
 
 "But most sensitive/ 
 
 "Of course," heassented. "All blooded stock is." 
 
 She leaned forward on the table, crossing her 
 arms before her impatiently. 
 
 "Will you please come to the point. A woman s 
 face counts for something." 
 
 " Is n t the identity established? I am not very 
 good at describing faces." She waited, silent. 
 "Well two delicately formed ears, white by 
 contrast, under the hair chestnut, perhaps 
 something pathetic in the eyes and a small 
 nose does n t it turn up a little?" 
 
 "And nothing more!" 
 
 "No, not till she spoke." 
 
 Her face broke into a satisfied smile. "You 
 see better in the dark than some people in broad 
 daylight." 
 
 "Any one can see charm, Princess. It s only 
 beauty that we quarrel about. We only recognize 
 the type that appeals to us." 
 
 "But Helen has beauty," she protested; "not 
 the sculptor s something infinitely more elusive 
 a gift she does not reveal to everyone." Then, 
 with one of her swift transitions, "But there is a 
 difficulty with Helen she has no dot." 
 
 "She has a grandmother." 
 
 "Ah, but it is not so agreeable always to live 
 with a grandmother." 
 
 26 
 
HELEN 
 
 "Your sympathies must be severely taxed if 
 they extend to every one who happens to live 
 with a grandmother." 
 
 "All the same, a young girl should not be shut 
 up with an old woman. What is a woman to do if 
 she does not marry?" 
 
 "Sometimes the woman who does not care to is 
 all the more desirable." 
 
 " Not the woman who really does not care, mon 
 
 ami. 11 
 
 "One never knows, Princess." 
 
 The white shoulders lifted scornfully. 
 
 "You are a very foolish person. Ask the desir 
 able woman and she will tell you. But who told 
 you," she exclaimed suddenly, sitting bolt up 
 right, " that Helen had a grandmother?" 
 
 "She did. A grandmother is not a secret. Most 
 people have one." 
 
 The Princess Ghica refused to smile. Reticence 
 always exasperated her. 
 
 "What else did she tell you?" 
 
 "Oh, nothing one does not know. That grand 
 mothers do not fill the vacant places of moth 
 ers, for example." 
 
 She gave him a look of keen scrutiny. 
 
 * You are a most amazingly observing person 
 and most mysterious." 
 
 "Just now I am rather a curious one. You seem 
 to be greatly interested in my roadside acquaint 
 ances. May I ask why?" 
 
 27 
 
HELEN 
 
 "Why! Mon Dieu, he asks me why! Helen s 
 mother and I were born on the same day, we had 
 the same godmother, we were brought up together 
 in the same convent Helen is like my own child 
 and when a house has no cradles " She 
 stopped short with a little nervous laugh. " Thank 
 God I have not yet descended to lap dogs!" She 
 dropped her cigarette in the tray and began to 
 gather up her possessions. " I see my maid pacing 
 the corridor like a wild animal. She wishes to tell 
 me the carriage is waiting." 
 
 He rose with her, opening a passageway be 
 tween the chairs, taken aback by this unexpected 
 outburst, and followed her in silence. 
 
 At the door of the coupe she turned, quite her 
 self again. 
 
 "You will not come?" 
 
 " I am an indifferent dancer, Princess. I should 
 disgrace you." 
 
 "To-morrow, then, at one o clock." 
 
 1 At one. The Prefecture ? 
 
 She nodded, and he gave the order to the coach 
 man. 
 
 In the hall the boy in buttons threw open the 
 doors to the lift. He shook his head and started 
 up the shallow stairs. 
 
 " Pardon, monsieur," said a voice at his elbow, 
 "the chartreuse." 
 
 He smiled. "To be sure. I forgot it." 
 
 His apartment was on the first floor. There 
 
 28 
 
HELEN 
 
 were a number of letters on the table, but he 
 threw open the shutters and stepping out on the 
 balcony dropped into one of the wicker chairs. 
 
 "When a house has no cradles. * How quickly 
 the mask of frivolity had fallen and the heart of 
 the woman had spoken. He had always liked the 
 Princess. Somehow, in a single second he had 
 gotten closer to her than in all the year of their 
 former acquaintance. 
 
 Below, on the flagging of the court, carriages 
 were coming and going. A lackey on the terrace 
 was lowering the huge umbrellas striped in red 
 and yellow. Under the glare of the arc lights the 
 flowers in their formal beds looked ghastly. A 
 tram, clanging its insistent gong, climbed the 
 boulevard toward Cimiez. Beyond, between the 
 roofs, the long lines of brilliant light marked the 
 streets. Farther still was the broken line of the 
 mountains and the level line of the sea. Sounds of 
 music floated up from the pavilion on the quay. 
 
 Far away on the road to Ventimiglia he saw a 
 little girl fleeing down the hillside among her 
 scattering sheep. He wondered what she had 
 done with his franc. Then the stupid brown 
 eyes changed, the stocky figure vanished, and 
 Helen stood at the gate of the Villa Fontana. 
 
 "A mighty nice boy," he said emphatically. 
 
 He went in, closed the shutters, and took up his 
 letters. 
 
IV 
 
 IT was half past two. They had outstayed the 
 other guests on the terrace, and, in the secluded 
 corner overlooking the garden, were quite alone. 
 The waiter had ceased to hover about the table, 
 and they were left at last in peace over the coffee. 
 
 "What sort of a person is Mrs. Lee?" asked 
 Fearing, looking up from the patterns he was 
 tracing with his cane on the gravel. 
 
 A smile stole over the Princess Ghica s face. 
 She had her intuitions, and had been waiting with 
 more than usual patience for a return to the con 
 versation of the previous evening. That a grand 
 mother should be the avenue of approach amused 
 her. In this instance, however, her ordinarily 
 trustworthy intuitions were at fault. 
 
 "Mrs. Lee? A very agreeable" she paused 
 to select her word " hostess. She has a garden, 
 you know not a salon. It is very diverting to 
 drink a cup of tea there. Like the climate the 
 Villa Fontana is one of the do you say assets? 
 of a winter s holiday. May I ask you why you 
 are interested in Helen s grandmother?" 
 
 If he noticed the touch of irony in her voice 
 he paid no heed to it. Draining the last drop of 
 coffee, he set the cup down deliberately before 
 replying. 
 
 30 
 
" HELEN 
 
 "Because it was to find Helen I came to the 
 Riviera." 
 
 "To find Helen!" she repeated, sobered in 
 stantly by astonishment. 
 
 "Helen and Jack, to be exact. And what I 
 would like to have you do, since you know them 
 so well, is to tell me what you can what you are 
 inclined to about them generally." 
 
 She stared at him, dumb with amazement. 
 "The fact is," he went on with provoking delibera 
 tion, reverting to his designs on the gravel, "the 
 business you were rather contemptuous about 
 last night concerns an estate of which I happen to 
 be the executor, an estate in which Mrs. Lee s 
 grandchildren have an interest quite a large 
 interest." 
 
 Hector de Chavigny ! " Her intuitions were on 
 the right track now. 
 
 "Yes. It was strange that I should run upon 
 upon them so, by pure accident, and I am ex 
 tremely fortunate to have run upon you, since you 
 know " 
 
 "Know! why, I" 
 
 "Wait a moment, please. Let me first justify 
 my curiosity. There is rather a peculiar clause in 
 Chavigny s will which, after setting aside a cer 
 tain sum for maintenance and education " 
 
 "But Helen is of age," put in the Princess ex 
 citedly. 
 
 " goes on to say that the executor is author- 
 
HELEN 
 
 ised to increase that sum at his discretion if in his 
 judgment the children s happiness should require 
 it. Happiness/ you know, is not a common word 
 in legal documents. Perhaps that will explain my 
 interest in the grandmother." 
 
 "And last night you let me go to the ball " 
 "You must admit you left me rather abruptly. 
 It was only at the last moment that you told 
 
 me" 
 
 She cut him short with a wave of the hand. 
 
 "Yes yes this will, this legacy what 
 does it amount to for the children?" 
 
 "Oh, as to that I can t say definitely. At the 
 time of Chavigny s death I was sailing for London, 
 but changed to the Southern route to look the 
 ground over. Roughly speaking, from what I 
 know of his affairs, I should say there might be a 
 million or so between them." 
 
 "Dollars or francs?" she gasped. 
 
 "Dollars." 
 
 "Mon Dieu! mon Dieu! Think of it! Millions 
 in each pocket for these children!" 
 
 " If you think in francs, yes that, more or 
 less. But before you answer my question I may 
 as well tell you of one matter on which I have 
 made up my mind already, irrespective of what 
 that answer may be. About Jack. So far as he 
 is concerned it was made up before I left him 
 yesterday. He belongs to another race and coun 
 try a country of which he knows little, of 
 
 32 
 
HELEN 
 
 which he has probably no recollection, yet which 
 he longs for and regrets. Just now he s a boy 
 without a country. But he s got the race instinct 
 and I propose to give him his own." 
 
 "How fast you go, mon ami," she murmured. 
 
 "Not any faster or farther than I can see." 
 
 A little gust of wind shook the leaves down on 
 the white cloth. Fearing began pushing them 
 about abstractedly with his knife. 
 
 "You see, Princess," he spoke dispassion 
 ately, as of another person, "I myself was an 
 only child, that is, a lonely child. A man can go 
 through a wood without seeing or hearing the life 
 on every side of him. That s the way I went 
 through my boyhood. None of the intimacies 
 which come to the younger members of a large 
 family came my way. That boy must n t become 
 a man without friends and interests, and this is 
 no place for him to waste another day." She 
 nodded, approvingly. "As for his sister that s 
 another matter." 
 
 "Quite," said the Princess dryly. 
 
 He was very calm and cool to look at, smooth 
 ing out the wrinkles on the white cloth with his 
 knife, his clean-cut, forceful face stamped with the 
 reserve and decision of his New England ancestry. 
 Compelling her admiration, it also irritated her. 
 
 "Without really knowing anything about 
 them," he said, returning to his leaves again, "I 
 supposed they were both mere children." 
 
 33 
 
HELEN 
 
 "I see." 
 
 " Now if I might remind you of certain things 
 you said last night " 
 
 "Why not?" she intervened quickly. 
 
 "Because, possibly, you were not altogether 
 serious about living with a grandmother." 
 
 "About living with a grandmother? the most 
 serious possible. So you thought they were chil 
 dren!" A gleam of amusement in her small 
 eyes. "Shall I tell you what you are thinking 
 now? In New York you said to yourself, I will 
 arrange this little affair of the children with the 
 grandmother ; and now, in Nice, you are saying, 
 4 1 will arrange this affair of the grandmother with 
 the children. " 
 
 Fearing laughed. "That s a fairly accurate 
 statement," he said candidly. 
 
 " Mon Dieu!" she said softly, relapsing into her 
 first astonishment, "what a coup de theatre! To 
 walk into a room and say, * I bring you a fortune 
 freedom! " 
 
 "Freedom?" 
 
 "Yes, certainly, for Helen it will be freedom. 
 What will you do with her? " 
 
 "You are building bridges I haven t got to 
 cross, Princess." 
 
 "Helen will cross her own bridges. It is in the 
 blood." She leaned back in her chair, incredulous. 
 "Do you mean to tell me that you know noth 
 ing" 
 
 34 
 
HELEN 
 
 "No," he interrupted, "nothing beyond what 
 I learned yesterday nothing beyond the fact 
 that they were living somewhere here with their 
 grandmother. Begin at the beginning, please, 
 Princess." 
 
 She tapped a fresh cigarette on the table. 
 
 "Let me think. It was twenty- three years ago 
 a young American, studying in Paris at the Ecole 
 des Fonts et Chaussees, to enliven himself went 
 one afternoon to the Sorbonne to hear a little 
 philosophy. It was quite the fashion of that day 
 to listen to a popular professor who was expound 
 ing the eclecticism of Cousin. All feminine Paris 
 flocked to his lecture-room. At one of these 
 lectures my young student, looking about him, 
 observes a young girl who, not being interested 
 in philosophy, is also looking about. Their eyes 
 meet. The seed drops into the ground. There 
 after the eloquence of the lecturer is wasted on 
 them. There is an eloquence more powerful than 
 speech. Nevertheless, my young man returns 
 the following week in order to hear Monsieur 
 Cousin s opinions on the True, the Beautiful, and 
 the Good. On that occasion he followed a certain 
 carriage to the Rue du Bac and adopted the fash 
 ion of Spanish novios that is, of frequenting 
 that street and of dividing his time between gaz 
 ing at the windows of one of its houses and ad 
 miring the prints in the bookseller s opposite. 
 Was he rewarded because occasionally a curtain 
 
 35 
 
HELEN 
 
 stirred at one of those windows? Probably. 
 When one is hungry one is grateful for even a 
 crumb. Of one thing I am positive in distress 
 one becomes devout. Monsieur, although a here 
 tic, begins to attend mass regularly, and in the 
 midst of his devotions the good God rewards him 
 with a glance from eyes containing what is not 
 written in the prayer- book. " She took another 
 cigarette from her case, accepting the match he 
 offered her. 
 
 "Well, one day of spring, when Paris goes to 
 the country, the windows in the Rue du Bac are 
 closed, the light of the world is quenched and 
 Paris becomes a desert. Disconsolate, his studies 
 finished, having no longer any object in life, 
 monsieur returns to his own country. But on the 
 very eve of his departure occurs one of those things 
 we call destiny. He is walking along the Quai 
 Voltaire when he sees in a bookstall on the parapet 
 a coveted collection of the Annales des Fonts et 
 Chaussees. It is incomplete, but on the assurance 
 that the missing volumes will be sent to him he 
 purchases it. The little god who selected these 
 musty volumes for his purpose took good care 
 that the missing ones should not be found. Per 
 haps you prefer to believe the dealer was a rascal. 
 At all events, they do not arrive in New York, 
 and after much waiting and innumerable letters 
 which remain unanswered, the idea is conceived 
 of lodging a complaint with the Consul-General 
 
 36 
 
HELEN 
 
 of France. It required but a moment s interview 
 with that gentleman to learn that consuls-general 
 do not trouble themselves about such trifles. He 
 goes out, furious, to find a carriage standing 
 before the door. Instantly his dear Annales are 
 forgotten for sitting in the landau of the Con- 
 sul-General is the young girl of the Sorbonne. 
 
 "Shall I put the dots upon the fs "? That young 
 man was the son of Mrs. Lee, and that young girl 
 Helen s mother, Helene de Chavigny. Eighteen 
 months after, they were married, and among 
 the wedding presents the missing volumes had 
 the place of honor. You knew Helene s brother, 
 naturally." 
 
 Chavigny? Slightly in a business way. * 
 
 The word brought back the smile to the 
 Princess s eyes. 
 
 "He adored his sister. He would give her the 
 moon. She asked much less her lover. That is 
 why, against the protest of the head of the family, 
 he permitted some of the purest blood of Old 
 France to mingle with that of the New World. In 
 your country everybody becomes contaminated. 
 You laugh at what we worship. Moreover, 
 Hector was already estranged from his father. 
 No one hears nowadays of the Chavignys, but it 
 is a name which everybody knows. Every year 
 the old Count made his pilgrimage to Frohsdorf 
 to kiss the hand of Henri Cinq. He wished to set 
 back the clock. Above all he wished to bequeath 
 
 37- 
 
HELEN 
 
 to his son his ideas, his principles another word 
 for prejudices. Hector would have none of them. 
 He abandoned his title to enter the service of the 
 detested Republic. It was during a short leave of 
 absence in France that he persuaded Madame 
 de Chavigny to obtain her husband s consent 
 that H61ene should return with him for a visit. 
 He found her languishing. The sea air would do 
 her good. Did she cherish vaguely the hope of a 
 new life in a new world? Who knows! Hope has 
 its gospel. 
 
 "You can well imagine that for the elder 
 Chavigny this marriage was a treason. Con 
 tracted without his consent, in contempt of 
 French law, it was also a sacrilege. Having quar 
 relled with the son, he disowns the daughter. So 
 much for endeavoring to impose one s ideas on 
 posterity! * 
 
 Still occupied with his playthings, Fearing lis 
 tened without comment. 
 
 " In those days H61ene wrote to me frequently. 
 All these details she confided to me. It is from 
 these letters that I learned of the birth of the chil 
 dren, of her husband s devotion, of her happi 
 ness and the assistance rendered by her brother. 
 I was on my way to Siberia when I received her 
 last letter. She wrote they were going to France, 
 first to Nice to make her bow to her mother-in- 
 law, and then to Paris. Dieu! how happy she was! 
 and how proud of her children! She wished to 
 
 38 
 
HELEN 
 
 wear her jewels, to parade them before her 
 mother in the Rue du Bac, confident that they 
 would soften the heart of her father. 
 
 "I remember well the morning pimitri came 
 into my tent, holding in his hand the last paper 
 from Petersburg. Our correspondence had ceased, 
 intercourse with the outside world was so difficult. 
 I knew from his face that he had some terrible 
 news to announce. Tatia, he said, * there has 
 been an accident in France. The express from 
 Nice has left the rails near Tarascon. All the 
 names were given. In that horrible catastrophe 
 Lee and Helene perished. They were in the din 
 ing-car which went over the embankment. The 
 children, in the wagon-lit, escaped uninjured." 
 She threw herself back in her chair. " You under 
 stand now why I am interested in your * roadside 
 acquaintances. " 
 
 Fearing waited patiently. 
 
 "We come now to the grandmother. But tell 
 me first how it happens that Hector, who adored 
 the children, waits to die before thinking of 
 them." 
 
 " Had we not better keep to the facts, Princess? 
 I represent Chavigny dead, not living. I used to 
 meet him occasionally at the club after he left the 
 Service, for you know he resigned and became an 
 American citizen. But he never referred to his 
 personal affairs." 
 
 " No, I did not know. I was too far away. 
 
 39 
 
HELEN 
 
 When we returned from Siberia the children were 
 here with the grandmother." 
 
 Absorbed in her recollections, the Princess was 
 silent. Presently Fearing looked up. 
 
 " I think you can afford to be quite frank with 
 me." 
 
 She drew a long breath. 
 
 " I was not thinking of what to say, but of how 
 to say it." 
 
 "If you prefer," he said, sweeping the little 
 cluster of dead leaves from the table, "say noth- 
 ing." 
 
 She leaned forward, resting her chin on the tips 
 of her jewelled fingers. 
 
 "Is it not strange that a woman who is a wife 
 and mother should deny to her son the right to 
 confer these blessings on another ! To the wife she 
 makes no objection. Any wife is an intrusion. 
 She objects to the marriage. There are women 
 like that, who wish to keep what they have, who 
 say, If there had been no wife there would have 
 been no accident/ That is the way a woman 
 reasons about another woman who steals affections 
 which do not belong to her! But there were the 
 children. One cannot ignore two children who 
 escaped death by a miracle. So she receives them. 
 That was much, for Jack was a baby, and a baby 
 disturbs the placidity of life. Then Jack grows up, 
 and there is an interval of peace. He has his 
 lessons and Helen, who is useful. Helen also 
 
 40 
 
HELEN 
 
 grows up, much faster. Men cease to pat her 
 cheek and say what a pretty child! They look 
 at her and are silent. And now, after sitting in a 
 corner, she occupies the centre of the stage. Of 
 this crime she is innocent, but she commits it 
 with every word and gesture even when she is 
 silent." 
 
 11 Is n t crime a rather big word, Princess?" 
 
 The white shoulders were raised significantly. 
 
 "That depends. The beggar on the road envies 
 you in your carriage, and envy goes off in the air. 
 You and he go your separate ways and forget 
 each other. But in the family it is different. One 
 does not forget, one cherishes, and after a time, 
 by rubbing continually one against the other, 
 comes fire, and the pygmy passion of the road 
 becomes a giant. Do not imagine," she added 
 quickly, "any one makes a confidante of me. 
 Helen is too proud, and there is no pride like the 
 pride of dependence. A woman understands what 
 she is not told. Helen has her faults; oh, great 
 faults! To begin with, instead of beauty she has 
 charm too much." 
 
 She caught the passing expression on his face 
 and her voice hardened. 
 
 "You think it is ridiculous to envy a young girl 
 the charm which belongs to her age. My friend, 
 it is not the charm which one envies, it is the loss 
 of attentions and preferences which one regrets 
 and resents. A woman is indifferent to all that 
 
HELEN 
 
 does not cross her frontier. Oh, yes, the faults of 
 her age and qualities, and when the time comes 
 for them to ripen they will be big ones. What will 
 you do with her? " 
 
 A little girl, having eluded the Cerberus at the 
 gate, was approaching warily, mumbling furtively 
 her plaintive story of desperate need. 
 
 "Poor child!" said the Princess, fumbling in 
 her gold-meshed bag for the petit sou. 
 
 "I see the motor is ready," said Fearing. 
 " Shall we take the upper road by La Turbie?" 
 
 She looked at him curiously. If she expected 
 another answer, she made no sign, and went in 
 for her wraps. 
 
 " Really, Princess," he said as the motor swung 
 into the road, "I m tremendously indebted to 
 you. I don t know what I should have done if 
 you" 
 
 She cut him short with a laugh. 
 
 "You would have done what you are going 
 to." 
 
V 
 
 THE Villa Fontana occupied a steep slope between 
 the precipices of a rocky promontory and the sea. 
 To this feature of the ground it owed its terraces, 
 its exposure to the sun, its shelter from the winds 
 which, sweeping from the north over its protecting 
 heights, only reached the sea at a distance, leaving 
 a broad and placid band of color along the fringe 
 of the shore. Carriages were forced to halt on the 
 road in the open space between the wing-walls 
 of its massive gates, beyond which only foot 
 paths, broken by steps, led down to the house 
 and sea. 
 
 Like the garden the house also accommodated 
 itself to the slope, being built on different levels 
 connected by stairs and passageways which 
 added more to its picturesqueness than to its 
 convenience. From the hall, cold with its stone 
 floor and marble reliefs, a broad stairway, lined 
 with armor and weapons, led down to the salon 
 a large room of lofty ceiling, its walls warm with 
 the deep red of damask and its low French win 
 dows opening to the sea and sun. Though large, it 
 lacked the sense of spaciousness, its treasures of 
 wall and cabinet suggesting the inability to resist 
 the habit of collecting.* But for this it com 
 pensated by its air of intimacy, the proof that it 
 
 43 
 
HELEN 
 
 was lived in and not consecrated solely to pur 
 poses of state. 
 
 It was Mrs. Lee s day at home, and the hum of 
 voices came through the glass doors as Fearing 
 followed the Princess Ghica down the stairs. Lor 
 gnette in hand, she entered with her air of health 
 and good spirits, nodding to her friends as she 
 made her way to the tea-table. 
 
 " I have brought you my friend, my very dear 
 friend," she said, presenting Fearing. 
 
 " We used to know each other," said Mrs. Lee, 
 looking up into Fearing s face with her smile of 
 studied cordiality "if you have not forgotten." 
 
 "Why should I?" 
 
 "Because you were but a boy, and because I 
 have dropped out of life the old life. It was a 
 long time ago." Hermite, Secretary to the Pre 
 fect, in a close-fitting coat and flowered waistcoat, 
 came up softly, bending over her hand. "Are you 
 passing the winter in the Riviera?" 
 
 His inclusion in the leisure class amused him. 
 
 "No, only a few days." 
 
 He had often seen the hunger of the self- 
 expatriated for even a passing contact with the 
 man from home. Here the complete detachment 
 from the old life was apparent. Where, he won 
 dered, were the compensations! Did the up 
 rooted plant ever reach down again in alien 
 ground below the shallow crust into the deep 
 subsoil? 
 
 44 
 
HELEN 
 
 The smile had passed to others, and he moved 
 on, giving way to new arrivals. The Princess at 
 the garden window was beckoning to him. 
 
 "Who is that woman?" whispered a young 
 American girl sitting beside Mrs. Lee, a note of 
 mingled envy and disapprobation in her voice. 
 
 "What woman, my dear do you mean the 
 Princess Ghica?" 
 
 "Oh, is she a Princess!" murmured the girl 
 apologetically. 
 
 "Come," said the Princess to Fearing, "let us 
 find Helen. Give me your arm, the path is steep." 
 She glanced at him with a whimsical smile. "You 
 must not think so loud." 
 
 There was a touch of motherhood, of affection 
 ate authority, in her treatment of him but he 
 took good care that she did not see he was aware 
 of it. 
 
 "Was I? what was I saying?" 
 
 "Exiles!" 
 
 It was quite true. She had crystallized in a 
 single word all he had been thinking. Cosmopoli 
 tanism was bad enough, but exiles! What s 
 Hecuba to them or they to Hecuba! 
 
 "You are a terrible eavesdropper, Princess." 
 
 " I am a Russian. I marry a Roumanian; I live 
 in Paris, London, Rome; but I remain a Russian." 
 
 "Does n t Mrs. Lee remain an American?" 
 
 She lifted her eyebrows with a little moue for 
 answer. 
 
 45 
 
HELEN 
 
 "You think, then, that Americans who live 
 abroad lose their nationality?" he asked. 
 
 " I think Americans who abandon their country 
 do so because they do not like the life there." 
 
 "As you abandon Russia." 
 
 "No; life here is everywhere essentially the 
 same. We migrate for change of scene, for amuse 
 ment. You migrate to escape conditions." 
 
 " Please don t include me in your indictment." 
 
 " Please to give me credit for a little discrimina 
 tion," she replied tartly. "I am well aware you 
 are only too anxious to get back to your bureau." 
 
 A heavy-featured man, with a full beard and 
 malicious eyes under his thick eyebrows, the 
 order of Ste. Anne in the lapel of his coat, was 
 climbing the path in front of them the Russian 
 Ambassador, one of the much-prized ornaments 
 of Mrs. Lee s salon. As he approached he raised 
 his hat and stopped, lifting the Princess s hand to 
 his lips. 
 
 " I was hoping to see you, Princess," he said in 
 Russian. "Will you tell the Prince I have some 
 news for him?" 
 
 The smile playing about his full lips was not 
 reassuring. She was on the point of questioning 
 him, but the smile restrained her; and without 
 noticing Fearing he passed on, leaning heavily on 
 his gold-knobbed cane. 
 
 "Which of you is persona non grata?" laughed 
 Fearing. 
 
 46, 
 
HELEN 
 
 She flashed him a withering smile. 
 
 " He was four years in Tokyo and pronounced 
 Japanese civilization a bad translation. On his 
 return the Emperor asked him if they were talk 
 ing war in Tokyo. Your Majesty, he replied, 
 one does not fight with monkeys, one massacres 
 them. " 
 
 The path they were following ended in a broad 
 ledge where a pavilion, over whose red-tiled roof 
 poured the blossoms of a white wisteria, high 
 above the tops of the ilexes faced the wide ex 
 panse of the sea. From the open space in front 
 steps led steeply down through the dense shrub 
 bery, between whose dark-green foliage bits of 
 blue water shone like turquoises. A half-dozen 
 people were grouped about the tea-table behind 
 the brick supporting pillars Madame Hermite, 
 a fat little woman under an immense hat of nod 
 ding plumes; her son, the Secretary; and a few 
 men of the younger set who were discussing the 
 coming motor-boat races at Monte Carlo. 
 
 Of none of these Fearing took much notice, so 
 completely did Helen dominate his attention. 
 She gave him a quick glance of recognition, one 
 of those fleeting changes of expression which 
 reveal the rapid transition of feeling, natural and 
 unrepressed. 
 
 In the short pause of conversation which 
 greeted the newcomers he saw what he had not 
 seen in the twilight of their first meeting a 
 
 47 
 
HELEN 
 
 small head crowned with thick hair full of chang 
 ing lights and shades which no single color-word 
 would describe; an oval face, the nose slightly re 
 trousse, adding a charming expression of piquancy 
 to the otherwise regular features; the mouth, a 
 little small, but fresh and frank, like the eyes. 
 She wore a soft white dress, with just a knot 
 of ribbon at the throat, its simplicity giving 
 greater contrast to the distinction of the slender 
 figure. 
 
 "What an entrancing spot!" exclaimed the 
 Princess, wedging herself in on the seat between 
 Helen and Madame Hermite. " I do not present 
 Mr. Fearing to you, Helen, because, it seems " 
 
 "Jack has forestalled you," said Fearing, in 
 tercepting her reference to the meeting of the 
 previous day. 
 
 "Where is that adorable Jack?" asked the 
 Princess, squeezing her hand through the opening 
 of her glove and helping herself to a tart. "If I 
 had a boy like that no sugar, Helen, you 
 know." 
 
 "You adore children, Princess," smiled Ma 
 dame Hermite under her hat. 
 
 "Yes, madame, like the rest of the world I 
 adore all that I do not have. Dimitri?" in 
 answer to Helen s question "no, he is shooting 
 pigeons. The poor birds! it is so cruel." 
 
 "Yet you shoot, they say, even better than 
 the Prince," ventured Hermite. 
 
 48 
 
HELEN 
 
 "Tea, Mr. Fearing?" asked Helen. 
 
 "Nothing for me, thank you." 
 
 The Princess offered her case. "A cigarette, 
 then. No? They say many foolish things, mon 
 sieur, but they do not say that I slaughter the 
 innocents." 
 
 "You have just missed the Ambassador," said 
 Madame Hermite affably. She spoke with a 
 certain air of proprietorship, her interest in 
 things Russian dating from the recent alliance. 
 "A most broad-minded man." 
 
 "Humph!" retorted the Princess over her tart, 
 " broad-shouldered." 
 
 "But so witty," rejoined Madame Hermite 
 complacently. 
 
 "Ah, as to wit " the Princess s sentence 
 ended in the air. 
 
 Helen glanced at Julia. What was the matter? 
 She seemed in a very bad humor. 
 
 "You must admit that," persisted Madame 
 Hermite, always tempted into conversational 
 quagmires beyond her depth, "whether you agree 
 with him or not." 
 
 "With wit one neither agrees nor disagrees, 
 madame. One laughs if one can." 
 
 Helen intervened. 
 
 "You too know Mr. Fearing, Tatia." 
 
 The Princess threw up her hands. "Imagine 
 where I last saw him ! at an official dinner. Oh, I 
 remember well that dinner!" 
 
 49 
 
HELEN 
 
 " One dinner is so like another," sighed Madame 
 Hermite. 
 
 "Not this dinner, I assure you. A most exqui 
 site dinner. Served to perfection with water! 
 How is one to talk through ten courses " 
 
 "I remember that you did," laughed Fearing. 
 
 "Then I am sure I said some very intemperate 
 things." 
 
 "Ah, I understand," said Madame Hermite, 
 brightening, "a temperance dinner, a dinner of 
 principle." 
 
 "A dinner of intolerance," snapped the Prin 
 cess. "Why is not one content on so fine an occa 
 sion to set a fine example! To oblige a guest to 
 follow it is to revive the Inquisition." 
 
 The plumes on Madame Hermite s hat trembled. 
 "When I think of all our poor France has suffered, 
 of all the crimes committed by absinthe " 
 
 "But it is not I who have committed these 
 crimes," cried the Princess. 
 
 Hermite came to the rescue. 
 
 "To prevent crimes, dear madame, one must 
 suppress the cause." 
 
 "Well, then, suppress also money, which causes 
 more crime than absinthe, and love, which is the 
 cause of more crime than either suppress that 
 also." 
 
 "Oh, Princess," he protested, appealing to 
 Helen, "you calumniate us." 
 
 Erect, her small head thrown back, Helen re- 
 
 50 
 
HELEN 
 
 pressed an ironical smile. Hermite, his monocle 
 screwed in the corner of his eye, examined the 
 two women critically over his teacup. The 
 Princess, plain beyond question, but so piquante, 
 her head set so well on her shoulders, and her 
 figure, short, but so faultlessly dressed. The 
 other, quite another type! Slender, almost frail, 
 but full of nervous energy, with the fascination of 
 youth untouched by knowledge or experience. 
 
 "Before suppressing all these things why not 
 weigh the happiness they are responsible for 
 instead of the misery?" 
 
 "Dear little book-keeper!" laughed the Prin 
 cess, patting Helen s hand softly; "if there is any 
 doubt, we will give them the benefit of it." 
 
 Madame Hermite, shocked that a young girl 
 should permit herself any opinion whatever, 
 drew herself up majestically. 
 
 "Miss Lee," said Fearing, "will you not do the 
 honors of the garden for me?" 
 
 "Do you really wish it?" She turned to the 
 two ladies. "Will you come with us?" 
 
 Madame Hermite excused herself, the terraces 
 were so fatiguing. 
 
 "And you, Tatia?" 
 
 "Let us see, Monsieur Hermite, if you can 
 make a second cup of tea for me," said the 
 Princess, not troubling herself to reply. Helen 
 looked at her in surprise. It was so unselfish in 
 her to keep Madame Hermite company and so 
 
HELEN 
 
 unlike her! All her ill-humor had suddenly 
 vanished. 
 
 The Secretary bowed, following the pair with 
 his eyes as they disappeared down the steps. 
 "Little coquette!" he muttered to himself. 
 
 Madame Hermite, who drew the line rigidly 
 between the privileges of the married and single 
 states, closed her eyes disapprovingly. 
 
 "Young girls nowadays," she confided to the 
 Princess, "are so" she hesitated for the fitting 
 word, but fared no better than her son in finding 
 it "so audacious." 
 
VI 
 
 IT was no new experience for Helen to act as 
 cicerone to her grandmother s garden. Tourists 
 with letters of introduction, who found it incon 
 venient to conform to a day at home * were an 
 almost daily trial. There were also distinguished 
 guests with compensating graces, and an occa 
 sional learned botanist who asked nothing but the 
 privilege to prowl about alone. She accepted her 
 charges as a part of the Villa Fontana s routine. 
 But the garden, always on parade, had gradually 
 lost all its intimacy, and she herself was only the 
 introduction to the absorbing guest, as devoid of 
 personality as the manikins in the shop windows 
 of Nice. Even the bit of Roman road, which had 
 known the tread of the legions of Caesar and the 
 ragged battalions of the Corsican, now carefully 
 guarded from profane feet by an iron railing, and 
 for antiquarians the Villa s supreme attraction, 
 had ceased to arouse her enthusiasm. 
 
 But to Fearing s invitation she responded with 
 a thrill of expectation. During all the Princess s 
 chatter over her tea she had been saying to her 
 self: Who are you? and what do you want? He 
 had walked in at dusk the day before with her 
 diamonds in his pocket, made some strange 
 speeches, and disappeared probably forever. 
 
 53 
 
HELEN 
 
 And now, after capturing Jack s heart, he comes 
 back, the friend of Tatia. He did not look like a 
 man to become excited over the latest bulb from 
 Holland or the newly arrived fern from Cochin- 
 China. She was willing to show him the garden, 
 because she was sure that he was not interested in 
 the garden at all. She was vaguely conscious that 
 something was impending, that for some reason 
 he was interested in her. Why? Perhaps the 
 garden would tell, or was it nothing just 
 another bubble from her own heart, that bursts 
 and disappears! 
 
 They had come out upon a seat on a solitary 
 spur of rock by the shore. Above towered the 
 rugged mountainside, uncultivated, its rocky 
 scars covered by native pines. Below shone the 
 sea, its shallows overhung by wild oleanders. 
 Here one quite forgot the flowering borders 
 between. 
 
 He had not been very communicative. Con 
 versation, as the art of saying something with no 
 particular object in view, was not his forte. He 
 was standing with his back toward her, looking 
 seaward, as she had stood the night before, and 
 the same feeling that something was coming in 
 from that far horizon took possession of her. 
 His back was like a wall, a shut door, barring her 
 from what she did not know. The impulse to 
 pound upon it, to push open the door, to see what 
 was beyond how absurd it all was ! 
 
 54 
 
HELEN 
 
 "You haven t a word of praise for the gar 
 den?" 
 
 "No," he said, turning around. 
 
 There were lines in his face. They made him 
 look older than by any possibility he could be. It 
 was the same reserved, forceful face she had seen 
 by the villa gate, conveying the same sense of 
 mastery and purpose. It made her feel weak in 
 comparison but she liked it. 
 
 "And you dare say it!" 
 
 "Does it require courage?" 
 
 "It ought to. Don t you know this is one of 
 the famous gardens of Europe? Not a tree or 
 shrub or plant is missing." 
 
 "So the Princess told me. It s quite a curios 
 ity." He caught the faint sunlight of the smile 
 passing through her eyes. "You see," he ex 
 plained, " I am a curiosity myself. I like things in 
 their places and seasons palms, for example, 
 where they belong, in the desert, for food and 
 clothing and shelter from the sun. Persons too," 
 he added, turning back to the sea, "where they 
 belong." 
 
 The added clause perplexed her, and she harked 
 back to the garden. 
 
 "You must n t say that to grandmamma. It s 
 treason." 
 
 "I won t. I am saying it to you because you 
 agree with me." 
 
 Instantly she was serious. 
 
 55 
 
HELEN 
 
 "I do, I do. We are just like grandmamma s 
 plants, like all the people who come here to 
 play in the sun till the winter is over. That s the 
 world we live in. The other world, the real world, 
 that gathers the olives and trims the vines, we 
 have no share in that." , 
 
 " Do you think you would have a share in that 
 world at home?" 
 
 "Home! Why, this is my home." 
 
 "To be sure so it is." 
 
 He sat down beside her. He was thinking hard. 
 
 "You were very good to trust your brother last 
 night to a stranger. He is a very interesting boy." 
 
 " Even a very interesting boy may be trusted to 
 a stranger who finds diamonds and returns them 
 promptly to their owner especially when that 
 boy is Jack." 
 
 "You each have confidence in the other, I see 
 that." And then, with his habitual directness, 
 "A moment ago you said this is home. Home is 
 the native soil. I have thought a good deal about 
 your brother since I left him at the frontier 
 yesterday, and I have come to the conclusion 
 that his home is his own country. What do you 
 think about it?" 
 
 She looked at him in amazement. He was 
 plunging again into the heart of things. But she 
 was not yet ready to take him seriously. 
 
 "I think he agrees with you and that it is 
 quite impossible." 
 
 56 
 
HELEN 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 Was he actually going to make her tell him why ! 
 Her voice trembled in spite of herself. 
 
 " You must ask my grandmother, Mr. Fearing." 
 
 " I shall. And I am going to propose to her that 
 he should go back with me." To watch the 
 changing expressions on her face was pure enjoy 
 ment. "That seems to you a very strange propo 
 sition. It is not, it is a serious one. I came here 
 this afternoon on purpose to make it first to 
 you, and then, if you approve of it, to your 
 grandmother. You were in America when you 
 were a child. Do you remember your uncle, 
 Hector de Chavigny?" 
 
 Remember him! 
 
 "Monsieur de Chavigny is dead," she said, 
 holding on to herself. 
 
 "Yes. I have his will in my pocket. Would you 
 like to see it? You have the right to." The fog 
 was beginning to clear away. She sat rigid, not 
 moving a muscle, her hands clasped about her 
 knee. "He has left his property to you two 
 you and Jack." 
 
 Property! The thing given made at first no 
 impression. But the giving ! She was back again, 
 a child, in the past, when the world was full of 
 love. Death had severed the last link with that 
 world, but love remained! In her memory her 
 uncle was a wonderful being, associated with all 
 the joys of an almost forgotten childhood, but a 
 
 57 
 
HELEN 
 
 childhood which came back to her at the mere 
 mention of his name. He had rarely written, but 
 he had not forgotten! Her heart leaped at the 
 thought. And then the past faded away and the 
 new horizons opened slowly, the wonderful, in 
 credible horizons. She was sitting where she had 
 so often sat with Jack, before that empty line 
 dividing sea and sky and now there was a 
 Beyond; not of dreams, of realities. She had 
 thought, as Youth is prone to, that if ever any 
 thing great came to break the monotony, it would 
 come as Royalty comes, with a flourish of trumpets 
 and it had slipped in quietly at afternoon tea. 
 
 She turned to him suddenly, the master thought 
 on her lips. 
 
 "Will there be enough to repay grand 
 mamma?" 
 
 He checked the short, derisive laugh with a 
 dry smile. 
 
 "Quite enough, if that is a debt she cares to 
 acknowledge." 
 
 " Please wait I must think and I can 
 not, I cannot." 
 
 She went to the brink of the path. The ripple 
 of the waves curling about the rocks came up to 
 her through the oleanders, the same waves that 
 had talked to her before in meaningless speech, 
 now full of alluring promises. She let them speak 
 to her, listening, listening heedless of the man 
 behind her. 
 
 58 
 
HELEN 
 
 Fearing watched her in silence. If it had been 
 the decent thing to do he would have stolen away. 
 Perhaps it was. Trouble, whether of joy or sorrow, 
 asks for solitude. 
 
 He was naturally given to quick decisions, to 
 rapid judgments. They, and a facile grasp of 
 conditions, had been the basis of his success in 
 life. He made mistakes, as other men did, but he 
 did not often suffer from perplexity. He had 
 wanted to open himself the door to the new 
 horizons, for the mere selfish pleasure of it 
 horizons not so clearly defined as those he fore 
 saw for Jack. And what he had wanted to do he 
 had done. He had taken Jack s hand in his be 
 fore they parted at the St. Louis bridge. Once 
 again the purely business side of his mission was 
 fading into the background. No, he was not 
 thinking of the Princess s words, that some day a 
 woman would smile upon him, but somehow it 
 seemed as if another hand he stopped thinking. 
 
 "I am going to Mrs. Lee now. Will you come 
 with me?" 
 
 At the sound of his voice she turned quickly. 
 He hardly recognized her face. It was like a 
 flower opened overnight, bewildered by the sun. 
 
 "I never could be separated from Jack." 
 
 " No, of course not." It was new to him not to 
 know exactly what he was saying. 
 
 "Yes, take me back, please. I want to see 
 Jack I want to find Tatia." 
 
 59 
 
HELEN 
 
 The Princess was waiting alone at the head of 
 the steps. 
 
 "What!" she cried in her high voice, "tears! 
 Nonsense!" and took the trembling form in her 
 arms. 
 
 Fearing walked on alone to the villa. At the 
 door he met Jack. 
 
 "Hullo," said Jack; "where s Helen?" 
 
 "She s coming. She ll be here in a moment." 
 
 Jack was beaming. 
 
 "There was an American girl here this after 
 noon," he said, his eyes twinkling. "She made an 
 awful break. She wanted to know if Aunt Tatia 
 was a real Princess." 
 
 "You call her aunt, do you?" said Fearing. 
 
 "Yes. She isn t a real aunt, you know. We 
 just call her so because we have n t got any." 
 
 " I see. And what did you say to the American 
 girl?" 
 
 "I did n t say anything, but I m going to tell 
 Aunt Tatia she has got to wear a big P on her 
 blouse. Here they come. Helen! Grandma s in 
 a terrible stew about you. Everybody s gone 
 this ever so long." 
 
 She stooped and kissed the boy. 
 
 "What s the matter?" he whispered. "You ve 
 been crying." 
 
VII 
 
 LIFE in the Villa Fontana had long since settled 
 into a deadly routine. 
 
 Precisely at nine every morning Mrs. Lee s 
 maid brought the tea and toast. Jack s morning 
 habits, like the sun s, were irrepressible. In 
 younger days he had invaded Helen s room and 
 bed, even before the sun, in consequence of which, 
 as also from a desperate love for each other s 
 society, later years found them disputing break 
 fast with the wasps on the terrace a breakfast 
 usually preceded by a bath and contest in stone- 
 throwing in a state bordering on nature at a 
 point on the shore Jack had named the Smuggler s 
 Cave and invested with imaginary and bloody 
 legends. This scandalous proceeding, however, 
 once discovered, had been summarily suppressed. 
 
 Precisely at eleven Mrs. Lee made the grand 
 round with the head gardener, a tedious dragging 
 tour of minute observations studiously avoided by 
 Jack, who preferred even lessons to escort duty 
 a duty devolving on Helen. 
 
 Precisely at half after noon a Japanese gong 
 announced luncheon, and thereafter the day de 
 generated for Jack into nothing to do, and Mrs. 
 Lee retired for the nap preparatory to possible 
 callers. 
 
 61 
 
HELEN 
 
 Reception days, although partially redeemed by 
 the absence of lessons, were black days in Jack s 
 calendar, interfering as they did, now that Helen 
 was grown up and drafted into society, with 
 the freedom of excursions into the country. 
 
 In earlier nursery times wearisome promenades 
 in the company of a maid or tutor had been the 
 children s chief recreation. To these had suc 
 ceeded days of wider liberty, daring sorties be 
 yond prescribed limits, productive of many 
 scoldings, false alarms, and anxiety a liberty 
 finally definitely won by sheer persistence in 
 wrongdoing and Jack s assertion that nothing 
 could possibly happen, and later lost in the in 
 terests of society. Jack s active mind was chiefly 
 concerned with schemes for getting away from 
 home, a lamentable state of mind to which 
 home tyrants are singularly blind, preferring to see 
 in all such impulses the workings of original sin. 
 
 Dependence upon each other for all that Jack 
 called fun had brought about an absolute sym 
 pathy between them. They had exchanged views 
 of persons and life at night under the counterpane. 
 The fact that Helen now wore long dresses and 
 received with grandmamma had made no breach 
 in their intimacy, Monsieur Hermite s attentions 
 and flowered waistcoat, Jack s especial scorn, 
 notwithstanding. In spite of the difference in 
 years he played the role of protector and master, 
 even to occasional bullying, the result of a sense 
 
 62 
 
HELEN 
 
 of masculine superiority not inconsistent with 
 passionate worship. 
 
 The recent arrival of the Princess on the scene 
 had broken some of the chains and swept some of 
 the cobwebs from the mental atmosphere of the 
 villa. For Helen she was a precious link with her 
 mother. Moreover, she knew her French grand 
 mother, whom Helen had clothed with imaginary 
 qualities by way of contrast with those near at 
 hand. Large-hearted, outspoken, and superior to 
 trifles, Tatia had flooded the leaden landscape 
 with sunshine, and also stirred a quickening 
 appetite for the larger world in which she moved, 
 a stimulant productive of both cheer and restless 
 ness. 
 
 Routine being easily disturbed by trifles, on this 
 particular afternoon Mrs. Lee s temper had been 
 ruffled. Jack had discovered the fact, but his 
 buoyant nature floated lightly on troubled waters. 
 
 It was a trifle that Helen should linger so long 
 in the garden, where the inaugural of a second 
 tea-table had been grudgingly conceded. The 
 Princess Ghica was necessarily a privileged guest 
 not amenable [to formal standards; but it was 
 unpardonable in Mr. Fearing to vanish without 
 taking leave. If he had not done so it was 
 equally unpardonable that he should devote the 
 entire afternoon to Helen. Mrs. Lee was making 
 these reflections when the door opened and 
 Fearing came in. 
 
 63 
 
HELEN 
 
 The tea-table manner had disappeared. She 
 struck him forcibly as a rather grim old lady. 
 But he was determined to ignore both superficial 
 signs and glimpses below the surface. Grand 
 mothers the world over are supposed to rejoice in 
 the good fortune of their grandchildren. It was 
 incredible that it should be otherwise. Besides, 
 so far as he was concerned, was it not a pure 
 matter of business? 
 
 Jack, mystified by the tears, with a keen scent 
 for all forms of excitement, whispered as they went 
 in, " What s up, Helen?" She pressed his hand 
 for answer. 
 
 Fearing felt instinctively that he had to do with 
 enmity, that his message would be resented, and 
 that resentment would fall upon the messenger. 
 Having no tact in dealing with nettles, he plunged 
 in straightforwardly as usual. 
 
 "I have been trespassing on your hospitality, 
 Mrs. Lee," he began, "and I am a deliberate 
 offender. The truth is I am the bearer of news, 
 of a document from the late Monsieur de 
 Chavigny." 
 
 The manner stiffened perceptibly. 
 
 "I never had the pleasure of Monsieur de 
 Chavigny s acquaintance, Mr. Fearing." 
 
 "No, naturally, since for the last twenty years 
 or more he resided in New York." 
 
 "The important thing," blurted out the Prin 
 cess, who had been restraining herself all the after- 
 
 64 
 
HELEN 
 
 noon, "is that he is dead and that he has left his 
 money, much money, to Helen and Jack.* 
 
 A pair of unflinching steel-grey eyes were 
 looking into Fearing s. It occurred to him to 
 doubt Monsieur de Chavigny s right to die or to 
 make a will at all. 
 
 "This is most extraordinary. Monsieur de 
 Chavigny has never to my knowledge manifested 
 any interest in my grandchildren." 
 
 "At all events he has not forgotten them," 
 said Fearing cheerfully, ignoring the stress on the 
 possessive pronoun, "as this will show you." She 
 took the proffered envelope, letting it fall into her 
 lap. "I am at the Majestic in Nice, and at your 
 service at any time. Perhaps to-morrow would 
 be agreeable to you, for I am expecting at any 
 moment to be called to London." 
 
 "Pray sit down, Mr. Fearing" reaching for 
 her spectacles "in that case, why not to 
 day?" 
 
 "Much better to-day," assented the Princess; 
 and, making an effort to introduce an appropriate 
 allegro, "let us thank God Monsieur de Chavigny 
 cannot change his mind overnight." 
 
 Taking the envelope from her lap Mrs. Lee 
 looked up over the rim of her spectacles. 
 
 "Have you informed the children, Mr. Fear 
 ing?" 
 
 "Not in detail. It is quite in order for you to 
 do so." 
 
 65 
 
HELEN 
 
 She opened the envelope without replying. He 
 studied her face as she read, turning the pages over 
 slowly an unemotional face, with that mixture 
 of will and indecision indicative of stubbornness. 
 Before the last page fell into her lap the silence 
 had become oppressive. 
 
 Grandmamma!" cried Helen impulsively. 
 
 "This means much to the children" without 
 noticing the appeal "it also means much to me. 
 It raises many questions." 
 
 "Does it not also solve some?" suggested 
 Fearing. 
 
 "What ones, Mr. Fearing?" 
 
 "Mrs. Lee," he was treading on firmer 
 ground now that heart-expansions were ruled out 
 of court, "Miss Lee is of age. As executor it 
 will be my duty and pleasure to place at her 
 immediate disposal her share of the income from 
 her uncle s estate. As to her brother, since you 
 have been so frank as to ask me a direct question, 
 you will permit me to answer it, I am sure, with 
 equal frankness." 
 
 " Do, I am waiting to hear what you are think 
 ing of." 
 
 " I am thinking that he is to grow to be a man, 
 and should have the opportunities, the associa 
 tions, the preparation to enable him to do a 
 man s work and meet a man s responsibilities." 
 
 " You mean that he should return to America." 
 
 Her quick penetration took him by surprise. 
 
 66 
 
HELEN 
 
 "I have foreseen that," she went on quietly. 
 " I quite agree with you that this is no place for 
 him. I have known it for a long time. I know, 
 too, he will be delighted. Have you conversed 
 with John" she never called him Jack "on 
 the subject?" 
 
 Being very slow to wrath, Fearing smiled. " No, 
 but I have been greatly tempted to." 
 
 "I can understand that. John makes friends 
 easily." She was folding and unfolding the pages 
 in her lap. "I am endeavoring to look things in 
 the face." Her manner softened. " I am a little 
 confused. My life is a quiet one, and the children 
 have been a grave responsibility. I am not sure 
 whether Monsieur de Chavigny has increased or 
 lightened it. I have realized for some time that 
 John needed a man s guidance. Perhaps" the 
 ghost of a smile flitted over her face "the man 
 is found. May I ask pardon the question 
 are you married, Mr. Fearing?" 
 
 He was at a loss to fathom the implication, but 
 responded gallantly. 
 
 "No; there is no Mrs. Fearing, but there is a 
 Mrs. Lee." 
 
 "Thank you. There is a great deal to be con 
 sidered, and perhaps it is better, as you suggested, 
 to defer till to-morrow you said the Majestic, 
 I believe." 
 
 "Yes, the Majestic." 
 
 He was genuinely glad for the dismissal. Jack 
 
 67 
 
HELEN 
 
 started to follow him, but Helen held him back, 
 and he went out alone in the tense silence. 
 
 At the villa gate he sat down on the stone 
 bench where he had waited for Helen, to wait for 
 the Princess. The late afternoon was just at the 
 turning-point when birds seek their nests and 
 lights along the shore begin to struggle with the 
 twilight. He lit his cigar, leaning forward on his 
 knees. Good Heavens ! what a woman ! " he mur 
 mured. A colony of small red ants were toiling 
 aimlessly between his feet. He wondered as he 
 watched them what was going on in the room he 
 had just left. At the sound of approaching foot 
 steps he looked up, expecting to see the Princess. 
 
 It was Helen. 
 
 He threw away his cigar and stood up. 
 
 "Mr. Fearing." 
 
 "Yes, Miss Lee." 
 
 "You told grandmamma I had the right to 
 some of Uncle Hector s money." 
 
 "Why certainly yes." 
 
 " I want some of it now." 
 
 For a moment he was completely taken aback. 
 The face was so pale and the voice so resolute that 
 the inclination to smile died instantly. 
 
 "There isn t the slightest reason in fact 
 your wishes are an order. I will make the neces 
 sary arrangements at once." 
 
 "You said you might go to London any mo 
 ment. Can t you make them now to-night?" 
 
 68 
 
HELEN 
 
 "To-night!" he said, thrown off his guard. 
 He thought for a moment, the anxious eyes fixed 
 on his. "There isn t any ink within reach, is 
 there?" 
 
 "There s the visitors book in the lodge." 
 
 He went in, took his check-book from his 
 pocket and began to write rapidly. 
 
 "Do you know what a check is? " he asked. 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Well, put your name on the back of this and 
 give it to the Princess or Dimitri, he will ar 
 range it for you." 
 
 "Shall I write my real name?" 
 
 "Your real name, why, yes, of course." 
 
 He had not intended she should do so now, but 
 carried along by the tenacity of her purpose he 
 yielded the pen and she wrote her name firmly 
 where he directed Hlene Lee. 
 
 "Now, don t lose it." 
 
 " I shall not lose it," she said, pushing it out of 
 sight in her corsage. 
 
 "You are not going to do anything rash, are 
 you?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "It s just for frocks, then," attempting pleas 
 antry" or isn t it?" 
 
 "Perhaps. You said it was mine. I haven t 
 got to thank you." 
 
 "No; thanks are entirely out of place." 
 
 "But I do" she essayed a fugitive little 
 
 69 
 
HELEN 
 
 smile, the corners of her mouth twitched, and she 
 was gone, leaving him staring after her. 
 
 A few minutes later the Princess appeared, out 
 of breath. 
 
 "Where s Helen?" 
 
 "She is -evidently not here, Princess. May I 
 smoke?" 
 
 "Do, and give me your light. What a comfort 
 it is!" she said, drawing a long breath. "I am 
 suffocated! What do you think now of grand 
 mothers!" 
 
 He made no reply and asked no questions, 
 helping her silently into the motor, and the car be 
 gan the descent to Mentone. They scarcely spoke 
 till it slowed down before the hotel entrance. 
 
 "Is her name Helen or H61ne?" he asked, 
 giving her his hand to alight. 
 
 "Helene, after her mother. But grandmothers 
 have scissors for offending vowels. Why do you 
 ask?" 
 
 "Nothing. A little matter of business with a 
 very unbusinesslike person. She will tell you. 
 You will dine with me to-night, you and Dimitri, 
 won t you? Shall we say nine o clock?" 
 
 The portier and a half-dozen satellites had 
 gathered like a swarm of bees. She had to content 
 her curiosity for the moment with a nod of ac 
 ceptance, and the revolving door separated them. 
 Just within she waited, but his man had joined 
 him, and she went on. 
 
 70 
 
HELEN 
 
 "A cable, sir." 
 
 He opened it by the side light of the motor. 
 
 "As I expected," he said, looking at his watch. 
 "It s barely seven. Get a reservation for the 
 night express to Paris and wire London I am 
 starting to-night. Be quick about it I have a 
 letter to dictate." 
 
 Then he went to the restaurant and ordered 
 dinner. 
 
VIII 
 
 IT was not because the Princess s mind was dor 
 mant that the drive home was a silent one. 
 Wrapped in her furs beside Fearing, she was 
 building castles in the air, and bits of solid 
 ground were forming in the vast spaces of her 
 imagination before the lights of Nice came into 
 view. What was the news at which the Ambassa 
 dor had hinted? What had Monsieur de Cha- 
 vigny s money to say for her? About these two 
 centres her thoughts revolved like the nebulae 
 about twin suns. 
 
 His Excellency was no longer on the active list. 
 He was enjoying that Indian summer of official 
 life when one is honored and paid for what one 
 has done and is relieved of all necessity of doing 
 anything further. But he was in close touch with 
 the Home Office. That he really had news of 
 supreme importance for her she was confident. 
 She was also confident that in his estimation it 
 would not be agreeable to her. There was a 
 malicious satisfaction in his unctuous smile and 
 veiled announcement thoroughly characteristic of 
 him. Having no longer any expectation of receiv 
 ing favors from Fortune, he found a special 
 pleasure in the frowns bestowed by that goddess 
 on his fellows. He was well aware of Dimitri s 
 
 72 
 
HELEN 
 
 desire for an appointment in the Home Office; 
 that Petersburg that is, home had long been 
 the Mecca of her own diplomatic ambition. He 
 had even fanned the flame of her hope gently. 
 Soured by retirement, what a delight it would 
 be to him to extinguish it with equal gentle 
 ness ! 
 
 If Petersburg was not to be, what then? She 
 scanned the diplomatic horizon in search of signs. 
 Her cousin Alexis was Ambassador in Paris. He 
 was particularly fond of Dimitri, and fondness 
 was proverbially near-sighted. He had often ex 
 pressed the wish to have Dimitri on his staff. It 
 would be just like Alexis s particular brand of 
 affection to ignore her private passion for home. 
 It was the most likely thing that could have 
 happened! Alexis was not a bad fellow, and he 
 was a bachelor. A vision of the Princess Ghica at 
 the head of the Embassy table flitted through her 
 mind. Of course that would mean no real promo 
 tion for Dimitri at the far end of the table, but 
 Dimitri was so unselfish ! his chief thought would 
 be her disappointment. And, after all, Paris was 
 infinitely preferable to some insignificant distant 
 post, even as chief of mission. 
 
 Intuitions and convictions being synonyms in 
 the Princess s dictionary, she had reconciled her 
 self to disappointment before Nice was in sight, 
 and had rehearsed an imaginary scene with 
 Dimitri. Dimitri was so philosophical ! She knew 
 
 73 
 
HELEN 
 
 exactly how he would break the news and how 
 astonished he would be at her reception of it. It 
 was here that Monsieur de Chavigny s money 
 came to the rescue in alleviating disappointment, 
 putting castles in the air on solid foundations. 
 For Tatia was quite as unselfish as Dimitri. 
 
 On their own account, as well as for their 
 mother s sake, Helen and Jack were very dear to 
 her. She had lost no time after her arrival in Nice 
 in taking them both to her heart, and at the same 
 time fathoming the troubled waters of the Villa 
 Fontana. But just then she was a rolling stone, 
 gathering no moss. How many projects, more 
 distinguished for their altruism than their practi 
 cability, she had conceived and abandoned! In 
 the twinkling of an eye all these air castles 
 assumed substance and reality under the magic 
 touch of Monsieur de Chavigny s dollars. Jack s 
 future was as good as settled he would go to 
 America with Mr. Fearing. And Helen it was 
 at this stage of her reflections that Fearing, hear 
 ing a smothered laugh in the furs beside him, 
 asked : 
 
 1 What is it, Princess?" 
 
 " Nothing," she said. "I was thinking of that 
 bridge of yours. I have a mind to cross it myself." 
 
 She had accepted Fearing s invitation to dinner, 
 and while the maid was at work over her hair she 
 went on with her castle-building. As the dinner 
 hour drew near and Dimitri did not appear, her 
 
 74 
 
HELEN 
 
 scanty stock of patience ran lower and lower. 
 Patience was not in the catalogue of her virtues. 
 At quarter to nine she dismissed her maid, broke 
 off a carnation for Dimitri s button-hole, and 
 went to the door of his dressing-room. 
 
 To the world at large Demetrius Ghica was an 
 enigma. He was not fond of its society. People, 
 Tatia excepted, bored him. Women liked him, 
 perhaps because of the indifference palpable under 
 his politeness. Men liked him for his unaffected- 
 ness, generosity, and easy good-nature, the latter 
 according to Tatia the fruit of a lazy habit 
 of mind rather than of virtuous intention. Yet 
 he was a hard worker and fond of books, often 
 confounding the glib of tongue with unexpected 
 information. Cards he detested, and of conversa 
 tional nothings he had only a limited stock of the 
 conventional variety. "Dimitri and I are such 
 good friends," the Princess explained, " because it 
 is so difficult to make him open his mouth." His 
 dislike for functions was notorious, yet he was in 
 demand, notwithstanding the fact that he was 
 generally found by his hostess after dinner en 
 sconced with a book in a remote corner of the 
 library. He had two hobbies, sports and Tatia. 
 Tatia was fond of the world, of jewels and the 
 people that wore them; but she could renounce 
 the world for the wild, dropping maid and jewels 
 at the edge of civilization to plunge with him into 
 regions tenanted only by primitive man. Tatia, 
 
 75 
 
HELEN 
 
 too, possessed that secret of good comradeship, 
 tolerance. She could let him alone, a debt he 
 repaid by accompanying her unasked where no 
 pleadings could have dragged him. Immensely 
 grateful to her for this tolerance, he was also 
 immensely proud of her, of all the qualities in her 
 which he did not share. Of her judgment he was 
 sceptical, but this did not seriously impair his 
 confidence, for when she did not go logically to 
 the right end she somehow managed to blunder 
 there. 
 
 When she opened the door of his dressing-room 
 he was tying his cravat imperturbably before the 
 pier-glass. 
 
 "Tatia," he said, meeting her eyes in the 
 mirror, "have you seen the Ambassador? * 
 
 "What is it," she asked, slipping into the near 
 est chair; "Chili or Peru?" 
 
 In the mistaken idea that suspense softens a 
 blow he had intended to temporize. The prompt 
 surrender of Petersburg for Peru staggered him. 
 
 "Try again, Tatia; you are leagues out of the 
 
 way." 
 "Paris." 
 
 He was accustomed to intuitions. They were a 
 daily occurrence. But her nonchalance! She did 
 not appear to be in need of consolation, and he 
 had laid in a plentiful supply of it! Unable to 
 detach himself from the role of consoler, he pro 
 ceeded cheerfully. 
 
HELEN 
 
 "Try to be contented, Tatia. You see I am." 
 
 "Dimitri, you are contented because you are 
 lazy. I am contented because I have a good 
 disposition." 
 
 She was sitting erect on the edge of her chair, 
 unruffled and mystifying. For lack of the indigna 
 tion he had been prepared to appease, he let escape 
 a little of his own. 
 
 " It sail Alexis s doing " 
 
 She stopped him with a gesture. 
 
 "Have you told Fearing?" 
 
 "Fearing? No, I haven t seen him. What s 
 Fearing got to do with it?" 
 
 "We are dining with him to-night. How it will 
 amuse him!" she soliloquized. 
 
 " It certainly amused the Ambassador," he said 
 sarcastically. "He was delighted. He even con 
 gratulated me." 
 
 The white shoulders lifted disdainfully. 
 
 "What did you say to him?" 
 
 "That you would be radiant." 
 
 She laughed approvingly. "The old hypocrite! 
 I am." 
 
 He did not understand, but the habit of taking 
 her good nature for granted asserted itself. 
 
 "Tatia, you are a jewel." 
 
 "Dimitri," she said, pulling him down and 
 fastening the carnation in his coat, "when you 
 pretend to understand you are positively ludi 
 crous. Listen." 
 
 77 
 
HELEN 
 
 She began with encomiums of Paris. It was not 
 Petersburg, but it had its advantages. Could he 
 possibly have a better chief than Alexis? His 
 thoughtful, rather sleepy eyes on her sparkling 
 ones, he listened much as a child listens to a 
 beloved story-teller, waiting for the climax. He 
 did not become excited over Chavigny s will. He 
 was only mildly interested in Jack s going to 
 America. It was quite the thing under the cir 
 cumstances. He nodded appreciatively over the 
 description of the interview in the Villa Fontana. 
 " Shall I tell you what I have thought of? 
 asking Helen to stay with us this winter in Paris. " 
 At last he understood. 
 
 " That s a large responsibility, Tatia." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "You will have to do most of the chaperoning 
 yourself." 
 
 "Naturally." 
 
 "And you re meddling in things that don t 
 concern you." 
 
 Why? Could Helen be left alone, without Jack? 
 Was n t he tremendously fond of Helen himself? 
 He admitted that he was. The dominant fact was 
 that Tatia, instead of being furiously disappointed, 
 was actually enthusiastic. Tatia always rose to 
 the occasion! 
 
 She glanced at the glass, readjusting the flowers 
 in her corsage. " Come, it s nine o clock, we shall 
 keep Fearing waiting. Do I look well to-night?" 
 
 78 
 
HELEN 
 
 Tatia was a jewel. There was no doubt about 
 it. He told her so again. She gave him one of 
 her smiles of good comradeship for reward and 
 answer. 
 
 At the door of the private dining-room the 
 maitre d hotel stood bowing. There were roses in 
 the crystal bowl and the white cloth was over 
 laid with a tracery of delicate ferns. But the 
 table was laid for two. 
 
 "There is some mistake," said the Princess; 
 "we are dining with Mr. Fearing." 
 
 "Pardon, there is no mistake. Monsieur Fear 
 ing has left a message for your Excellency" 
 pointing to the envelope leaning against the bowl 
 of roses. 
 
 She broke the seal, reading aloud: 
 
 Dear Princess, 
 
 I am compelled, much to my regret, to eat my 
 dinner on the express for Paris. The everlasting 
 business! A cable from New York announces a 
 meeting in London at which my presence is supposed 
 to be of importance. Please say to our friends at the 
 Villa Fontana that I hope to return in a few days. It 
 occurs to me, however, that this may not be necessary. 
 It might be agreeable and convenient to Mrs. Lee, 
 should she continue to approve of my views in refer 
 ence to Jack, to have him sail with me. In that case 
 I suggest he should go up to Paris in my motor. My 
 chauffeur is entirely trustworthy, and if you will wire 
 me at the Carleton the day he starts, I will endeavor to 
 meet him myself in Paris or send over my secretary. 
 
 79 
 
HELEN 
 
 The chauffeur has orders to report to you every morn 
 ing. His name is Peter. My compliments to Dimitri, 
 and to you regrets and excuses. 
 
 FEARING. 
 
 Dimitri was already unfolding his napkin. 
 
 Before going to bed that night the Princess 
 wrote two feverish letters one to the Carleton 
 and one to Mrs. Lee and when Hearing s car 
 reported for duty in the morning she was ready, 
 though the hour was an unwonted one. She drove 
 straight to the Villa Fontana and commandeered 
 Helen. Jack? No, Jack could wait. She wanted 
 Helen to herself. 
 
 She sat down on the bench just inside the gate, 
 digging the tip of her parasol impatiently into the 
 well-ordered gravel. 
 
 "Now, my dear, " she began, before Helen 
 could utter a word, "tell me what we have in our 
 head. Oh, I know very well there is something. 
 Mr. Fearing said you would tell me, and I have 
 not slept endeavoring to put two and two to 
 gether. He has gone to London. I am not sorry. 
 He wishes Jack to go back with him to New York. 
 I have written your grandmother. It s an excel 
 lent plan, very much to the point and very Ameri 
 can. Time is so important at Jack s age! Now for 
 you, if you please." 
 
 " I am going to Paris." 
 
 "Oh! you are going to Paris! Dear me!" 
 80 
 
HELEN 
 
 "With Jack" very firmly. 
 
 "A capital chaperon! Pray where do you 
 descend in Paris?" 
 
 "I am going to my grandmother s." 
 
 "The real one, eh!" The Princess laughed. 
 She was in fine humor. "How many louis d or 
 have you in your pocket, my child?" 
 
 A small slip of paper came from the fold in 
 Helen s dress and was laid on the Princess s 
 muff. 
 
 "So! that is it, is it! Ten thousand francs! A 
 fine beginning. My dear, you will do nothing of 
 the kind. I see a thousand objections. To begin 
 with, Madame de Chavigny would be stupefied. 
 She is not accustomed to these American pro 
 cedures. No interruptions! You wish to go to 
 Paris, to be with Jack to the last moment, to 
 scatter some francs in the Rue de la Paix, and 
 to throw yourself into the arms of another grand 
 mother all with this preux chevalier Jack a 
 fine programme highly improper and quite 
 impossible! You need not shut your lips so 
 tightly, my dear. I say quite impossible, because 
 you are going with me." 
 
 She laid her hand for silence on Helen s knee, 
 There was no need to enjoin it. The garden had 
 vanished, its tangle of interlacing boughs, the 
 path dipping out of sight to the sea. Straight 
 before her was the clear, open road, where the 
 garden ought to be. She could not frame in words 
 
 81 
 
HELEN 
 
 the picture at the road s end. What else Tatia 
 was saying she did not hear. What Tatia had 
 said before she had heard unmoved. How little 
 Tatia understood that the child in her was 
 dead! 
 
 But Tatia went on, humorously, as if it were a 
 day s excursion instead of the straight road, the 
 road which had no end. "We are ordered to 
 Paris, and you will pass the winter with us. I 
 have arranged it with your grandmother" 
 Tatia alluded to her letter: in the matter of ac 
 ceptances to her proposals she sometimes slipped 
 in her tenses "but we will go leisurely, accord 
 ing to our own notions, and Jack will look after 
 me I give you Dimitri instead. Don t speak, 
 child, or I shall play the fool myself. Go find 
 Jack tell him our fairy tale. I am going to 
 your grandmother." 
 
 She stood up, bristling with energy, shaking her 
 muff free of its wrinkles, like a warrior about to 
 break a lance. 
 
 "Tatia dear, I would rather you would not. I 
 had rather speak to grandmamma myself." 
 
 The Princess shot a swift glance at the face, 
 grown suddenly grave and determined. 
 
 "I believe you are right. I think so, too." 
 
 They walked together slowly to the motor 
 without speaking. It was beginning to dawn 
 upon the Princess, what a visit to Paris really 
 meant. 
 
 82 
 
HELEN 
 
 As she got into the car Helen stepped on the 
 running-board, burying her face in Tatia s fur 
 collar close under the ear. The tears were close 
 to her eyes. 
 
 The Princess wiped her own briskly. 
 
 "Avanti! " she cried to the American chauffeur. 
 
IX 
 
 AN impartial visitor would have found Mrs. 
 Lee s bedroom in the Villa Fontana open to the 
 same criticism as the salon, overcrowded as it was 
 with objets d art of more merit than appropriate 
 ness. Yet, like the salon, the impression it created 
 was a pleasing one. It was a room to live in as well 
 as to sleep in, spacious beyond the wont of bed 
 rooms, its three large windows looking southward 
 over the sea. Through these windows it borrowed 
 the sun, the garden odors, the sea breezes all 
 the treasures of the outside world. On the west 
 a glass door opened upon a small garden on the 
 same level. Perched on its high retaining wall, 
 its only means of access the wicket in the hedge 
 where it joined the rising ground on the north, it 
 was as free from intrusion as the room itself. 
 
 Windows and doors were shut now, a wood fire 
 was burning on the hearth behind the wire cage, 
 before which Mrs. Lee was sitting in the armchair 
 which the maid dragged every evening from its 
 corner before bidding her mistress good-night. 
 She had always prized this evening hour of soli 
 tude and peace, the companionship of this fire, 
 which like some intimate and privileged guest, 
 shared with her the hour before sleep. There were 
 guests with her to-night that had not waited for 
 
 84 
 
HELEN 
 
 invitations and whom she could not dismiss. 
 Motionless, her thin white hands resting on the 
 arms of the chair, she stared into the fire, now 
 crumbling to ashes. 
 
 A mournful figure! 
 
 In her lap lay a letter from the Princess Ghica. 
 Monsieur de Chavigny s will was in the desk 
 between the windows two bits of paper which 
 changed the entire aspect of life. The hand of the 
 dead, more inexorable than that of the living, had 
 taken the helm. 
 
 John was going to America. 
 
 She had offered no objections. There were none 
 to make. For many reasons the decision, once 
 made, had lifted a load of uncertainty and re 
 sponsibility from her shoulders. She had begun to 
 be concerned for John s future, to realize, in a 
 helpless sort of way, that it was time to think 
 of school and vocation. He was getting restless. 
 The energies of youth were beginning to seek 
 other outlets than her quiet life afforded. He 
 needed, too, a man s guidance, and Providence 
 had furnished the man. She had always intended 
 to provide so far as she was able for the children s 
 future. But how? Money was not all, and that 
 little was all she had to give. They were alone 
 in the world. She had lost all touch with earlier 
 associations in her own country. With their 
 mother s family she had no relations. They had 
 never forgiven the American marriage and were 
 
 85 
 
HELEN 
 
 not to be counted upon. Pride self-respect she 
 called it stood in the way. To know that the 
 future was secure, so far as material considerations 
 were concerned, was an immense relief. But for 
 the passion to be the sole source of happiness it 
 would be a joy. 
 
 To be no longer the giver! 
 
 That John should be wild with delight was 
 natural enough. But Helen! 
 
 She took up the Princess s letter. 
 
 "We are ordered to Paris ... it will do the 
 child good ..." 
 
 The implication rankled. And Helen had ac 
 cepted, calmly, unreservedly, with a bewildering 
 decision of will which did not even admit of dis 
 cussion. 
 
 She had never before contemplated the possi 
 bility of being left alone. In forecasting the future 
 it was always she that was taken and the children 
 left. With her own life she was satisfied, satisfied 
 to live it as she was living it, to the end. She loved 
 its tranquillity and peace, her wonted ways, the 
 quiet garden, her social kingdom, and herself. 
 After her fashion she had loved the children, for 
 her son s sake. Face to face with separation she 
 saw for the first time loneliness, like the shadow 
 of a cloud that blots out the sunlight, settling over 
 life the burden changed to blessing. 
 
 Her thought went back to the day when they 
 came to her Helen a little girl in short dresses, 
 
 86 
 
HELEN 
 
 and John a mere babe in the nurse s arms. A long 
 time ago! Well, she had done her duty by them. 
 She had repeated the words more than once, for 
 she had her conscience well in hand. To-night 
 conscience was rebellious. It persisted in asking 
 her if she had ever loved these children for their 
 own sake, with the love that puts the happiness 
 of others above one s own. It asked her why to 
 night there was no rejoicing in her heart. She 
 answered there was rejoicing but at its core was 
 a bitterness she could not banish and was reluc 
 tant to explain. Why? Were they not her son s 
 children, her only son, whom she had worshipped? 
 with that worship which grows in proportion 
 as its object recedes into the background. 
 
 He had been an affectionate son, even a dutiful 
 one in outward observances. But in all those vi 
 tal things wherein his tastes and proclivities ran 
 counter to her own he had always had his way. 
 The conflict had begun early, when his boyish 
 dams and water-wheels had tried the patience of 
 the gardener, and his room became a laboratory 
 defiant of the standards of order observed in the 
 Villa Fontana. It had gone on increasing with 
 his ardent love for all that practical and scientific 
 side of life which she neither understood nor cared 
 for, and she had yielded, grudgingly, resignedly, 
 of necessity, till he had gone beyond the scope of 
 her sympathy or comprehension, not even sus 
 pecting the sacrifice of her somewhat vague ambi- 
 
 87 
 
HELEN 
 
 tions for him gone his own way, without en 
 couragement, until little by little she was lost in 
 the background and the man s interests had taken 
 her place. 
 
 The widening breach had brought struggle, 
 estrangement, but no open hostility she re 
 minded conscience of that not even at the final 
 parting of the ways. For when the other woman 
 came to occupy the first place in his plans and 
 affections, the parting was final. 
 
 She was not so unreasonable as to shut her eyes 
 to the inevitable course of nature, nor yet so rea 
 sonable as to bow to it. Inwardly she had resented 
 it, resented the intruder who absorbed for herself 
 all she had considered her own and had not known 
 how to keep. She had made the vain effort to keep 
 this bitterness to herself. Does one ever succeed 
 in facing two ways? It was an added bitterness 
 that he had never seemed to see what she called 
 her sacrifice, to realize that the merging of his life 
 in another s had made him still more buoyant, 
 self-confident, and free. 
 
 Of his marriage she knew only after its consum 
 mation. Was it, after all, her fault that he had 
 never confided in her? On marriage she had her 
 own definite views, the views that come with retro 
 spect and experience. It was perhaps the only 
 subject on which her judgment was more prac 
 tical than his. That he should plunge into that sea 
 without thought for the future, regardless of every 
 
 88 
 
HELEN 
 
 material consideration, heedless of its conse 
 quences, and against the wishes of his wife s fam 
 ily, was a romantic folly a man s folly and a 
 woman s work! But his courage had always risen 
 with opposition she had called it wilfulness at 
 the time and he had met opposition as he had 
 ever done by taking the reins in his own hands. 
 And courage had had its reward. In the desk by 
 the window she still preserved his letters, glowing 
 letters filled with a supreme happiness, the happi 
 ness that atones for everything and silences re 
 proach. Then came the end, the real end, in that 
 terrible tragedy of Tarascon, with its ravaging 
 aftermath of regrets and self-condemnation. 
 
 At first and for a long time the children had in 
 a measure been a solace and compensation. John 
 was like his father, her own John, sanguine, affec 
 tionate, and self-willed. Was it again her fault 
 that she had never taken the lost mother s place, 
 the place that had been taken by Helen? 
 
 The white hands tightened on the arms of the 
 chair, and the heart warmed with the craving for 
 what she had never given affection, free, un 
 trammelled by pride and the reserves of self-will. 
 And now they, too, in the relentless irony of exist 
 ence were to pass out of her life ; for she was not 
 deceived by the word visit in the Princess s let 
 ter, and John was to cross the sea. She was get 
 ting to be an old woman. She had abandoned her 
 country in her youth, and in her old age her coun- 
 
 89 
 
HELEN 
 
 try abandoned her. It would not know her if she 
 returned to it. The mere thought of doing so was 
 repellent. She could not get into its swift current 
 even if she desired, and having passed her by it 
 was now to rob her of the children of her son. 
 After all they were the only real ties which bound 
 her to earth. The old ones had been loosened, and 
 the new ones to-night, before the dying fire, 
 they seemed weak and vain. 
 
 She struggled awhile with the sense of loneli 
 ness, the enervating tide of self-pity, then faced 
 conscience resolutely again. Had she no griev 
 ances against this woman who had usurped 
 her place? against this country where conventions 
 and dots, all those wise provisions for the safe 
 guarding of impetuous natures, are commonly set 
 at naught? against the dead man who had given 
 the sympathy and assistance she had withheld and 
 who now reduced her to a cipher? And conscience ! 
 Why had its voice always been the voice of re 
 proach, never the voice of warning? Conscience 
 answered that a love shared is never lost, that the 
 abdication of self is not defeat, that she was reap 
 ing what she had sown, pain for pain and bitter 
 ness for bitterness, the helpless bitterness of 
 pride which sees too late. 
 
 Grandmamma. 
 
 Helen was standing in the doorway, the light 
 from the glowing embers reflected on her face. 
 
 "Yes, Helen." 
 
 90 
 
HELEN 
 
 Helen closed the door and advanced a step. The 
 voice was the voice expected, questioning, dis 
 concerting. She was in the mood to throw her 
 arms about some one even her grandmother 
 if the voice had only hinted invitation. In the 
 immobile face she read the recognition of their 
 changed relations, of her newly acquired inde 
 pendence. With her own consciousness of it hos 
 tility had melted. It seemed to have hardened the 
 heart to which she appealed, and the chill struck 
 to her own. 
 
 "I wanted to speak to you, grandmamma " 
 She hesitated. It was not easy to speak, standing, 
 to the stiff figure seated before the fire. She drew 
 a footstool beside the chair and sat down at her 
 grandmother s feet. 
 
 " I want to speak with you to talk with you. 
 Will you listen to me?" 
 
 Her face was pale, the small mouth twitching, 
 but a purpose not to be turned aside was discern 
 ible under the question. 
 
 "What is it you wish to speak about, Helen?" 
 
 What was there to speak about ! Jack was going 
 away, life was torn up by the roots, and there was 
 nothing to say! For a moment courage faltered, 
 and the temptation to say nothing, to let it all go, 
 overcame her. An older person, of wiser mould, 
 might have yielded, let well enough alone, as she 
 herself had done these many years. It was an 
 other Helen now. The first rush of feeling was 
 
HELEN 
 
 gone. In its stead was this strange, new sense of 
 power the power that money gives. There was 
 no sordidness in it, only the consciousness of free 
 dom, freedom from fetters, freedom to do and to 
 be. Whether or not she had been too sensitive to 
 it, the oppression of dependence was gone. The 
 barriers were down, the road open. But another 
 oppression remained, the oppression of silence, 
 of repression, the long accumulated load of years. 
 It stifled her. She longed to be rid of it. She could 
 not take a step on that open road till it was gone. 
 Every chamber in her being, so long locked, was 
 as ready to open to the wonderful future as the 
 tightly folded bud yields to the sun if her grand 
 mother would help her. Would she? 
 
 "I want to speak to you about that letter." 
 
 "The Princess s letter?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 She saw the white hand, lined with the swollen 
 blue veins of age, hanging listlessly from the chair. 
 She longed to lay her cheek on it. It was not half 
 so starved as she. 
 
 "I quite understand your wish to accept the 
 Princess s invitation. It would be very lonely for 
 you here without John. I understand that, too." 
 
 Helen raised her head. It was too late to retreat 
 now, and a passionate sincerity, the rash, unspar 
 ing sincerity of youth, carried her away. 
 
 "Is that all you understand, grandmamma? 
 Don t you understand that I want to go that I 
 
 92 
 
HELEN 
 
 must go not because Jack is going wait, 
 please let me speak first. You have been good 
 to us, to Jack and me. I shall never forget it, 
 never. I long to repay it. Mr. Fearing says I can t 
 with money, and, grandmamma, you have never 
 let me try with love." 
 
 "Helen!" 
 
 "It s true, grandmamma. Goodness isn t 
 enough. I want love, to have it and to give it. 
 I ve never had it since mother went except 
 from Jack and Aunt Tatia." 
 
 A cruel little flame darted out from the crum 
 bling log, hissing fiercely, and as suddenly expired. 
 
 " Helen, you are saying what you will regret." 
 
 Helen had never spoken in this way before. 
 The revolt took away all power of speech. If it 
 had been the revolt of anger but it was the re 
 volt of truth, ruthless because so true. Its abso 
 lute verity and the honesty of its utterance left 
 her dumb. 
 
 Helen shook her head slowly. "No, I am say 
 ing what I must, what is true, what you know is 
 true. Are we never to say what we are both think 
 ing? It hurts to be silent, more than to speak. 
 I know perfectly well what I have wanted, to 
 be loved as mother loved me with her arms, 
 whether I deserved it or not. The last night she 
 was here she took me in her arms and cried. I had 
 never seen mamma cry. I wondered why. I was 
 too young then to know. I know now you did 
 
 93 
 
HELEN 
 
 not love her. I know it because, if you had, you 
 would have loved me, no matter how unlike her 
 I was. She loved every one. I am not like her 
 I am like you I cannot love every one." Her 
 voice softened. "That is what I came to say. 
 Can t we forgive each other for not loving each 
 other now before I go? " 
 
 The white hand, trembling on the chair, went 
 to the bent head. At its touch Helen looked up. 
 
 "If you only needed me, grandmamma but 
 you don t. You will miss me when visitors come, 
 when your eyes are tired and I am not here to 
 read to you. But you will not miss me as Jack will 
 miss me. I shall be no more than a vase of flowers 
 taken from a room." 
 
 The white hand was withdrawn and the face 
 turned away. 
 
 There had been a moment, had Helen only 
 known it, when forgiveness could have been given 
 and taken, bitterness washed away in tears. That 
 moment had gone. 
 
 " I am not saying what I meant to say. I meant 
 to say that if Aunt Tatia had not asked me to go 
 with her, if Jack had gone away with Mr. Fearing, 
 I should have been terribly lonely but I should 
 have been happy because Jack was so happy 
 and I thought if you could feel about me as I feel 
 about Jack, if I could share my happiness with 
 you, I should not be ashamed of being so glad. 
 Papa used to say we owed everything to Uncle 
 
 94 
 
HELEN 
 
 Hector. But mamma said love paid every debt. 
 I know now what she meant." 
 
 "Hush, child, you touch wounds of which you 
 do not know." 
 
 In the desk by the window was a red book, a 
 book of accounts and figures. On a separate page 
 began a list of expenditures for the children. It 
 was a record for her own satisfaction, certainly 
 not an account for collection. She had never in 
 tended it for any eye but her own. If debt there 
 was, love that might have paid it would never pay 
 it now. Her thought travelled back again into the 
 past. John had received a small inheritance from 
 his father, barely enough for student days. She 
 had offered to supplement it. He had not refused 
 the assistance of Monsieur de Chavigny, yet he 
 had refused hers. She had not even known how 
 to give! 
 
 "Wounds, grandmamma?" 
 
 Helen stood up. There was that in her grand- 
 mother s voice she had never heard before. 
 
 "Leave me, dear." She made an effort to smile. 
 The habit of years is not broken in an hour. "You 
 need not feel ashamed." 
 
 Helen stooped quickly. Since a little girl she 
 had not done what she was doing kissing her 
 grandmother, with arms tight about her neck. 
 
 The white hands loosened them gently. "Go, 
 dear, go good-night." 
 
 "Good-night, grandmamma." 
 
 95 
 
HELEN 
 
 Something told her not to linger. 
 "Good-night." 
 
 The door closed. A few last sparks of light crept 
 in red zigzags over a black ember and went out. 
 
 Failure, all failure, from beginning to end. For 
 this was the end. Opportunity gone, as irretriev 
 ably as the girl whose retreating footsteps echoed 
 in the corridor. 
 
BOOK II 
 
X 
 
 THERE is a ceremony which confounds the laws of 
 number by pronouncing two one. But which one? 
 In the process of becoming Madame de Chavigny 
 it was the identity of Julie de Trecourt which suf 
 fered eclipse. 
 
 She possessed one of those loving natures which 
 bend like a willow to the storm a habit of soul 
 no storm permanently disturbs. Monsieur de 
 Chavigny, with fine, unconscious irony, accounted 
 her a saint, and saints being habitually trampled 
 upon in this world, he saw no reason for making 
 her an exception. He was by no means blind to 
 her good qualities. On the contrary he held them 
 in high esteem, appropriating them, together with 
 her dot, exclusively to himself, and wearing them, 
 like the order given him by his king, as personal 
 decorations. 
 
 In similar fashion he had taken over and dis 
 posed of her two most precious possessions 
 Hector and Hellene. The former she had surren 
 dered with that good grace which concedes to a 
 husband the right to dispose of a son s career. 
 When, however, in defiance of that right Hector 
 entered the service of what Monsieur de Chavigny 
 called the infecte Republic, she secretly sympa 
 thized with the son, not because she shared his 
 
 99 
 
HELEN 
 
 political opinions, but rather because with her 
 surer feminine instinct she read the signs of the 
 times better than her lord. Every promotion, 
 which for him was another downward step in 
 infamy, brought her a hidden satisfaction. She 
 had the misfortune to be one of those loving 
 women who gauge success by the happiness of the 
 successful, apart from all purely worldly or po 
 litical ambitions. Principle occupied all Monsieur 
 de Chavigny s horizon. In his code of ethics it left 
 no place for affection, which in conflict with prin 
 ciple becomes a species of immorality. In her 
 humble way Madame de Chavigny saw certain 
 distinctions between this fetish and the high 
 gods on Olympus. Thus it happened that, while 
 Helene s marriage was a shock, because H61ne 
 was happy and because her own share of happiness 
 had been so slender, she seized upon Helene s and 
 lived in it vicariously; and having herself known 
 much sorrow, applied herself conscientiously to 
 the task of making her husband forget that it 
 existed. Even when he closed his door upon his 
 progeny she continued to give him that strange 
 thing, a woman s loyalty for two excellent rea 
 sons: first, because there are men capable of exact 
 ing it, and second, because there are women in 
 capable of ceasing to love their husbands after 
 having once surrendered themselves. 
 
 When, however, in his turn Monsieur de 
 Chavigny surrendered his marital authority, a 
 
 100 
 
HELKN 
 
 long cherished hope fluttered to new life in the 
 heart of the lonely woman in the Rue du Bac. 
 Somewhere in the world were Helene s children, 
 young lives whose warm, fresh blood is the only 
 elixir for old age. Lying under the cypresses of 
 Pere-la- Chaise, his decorations on his breast, 
 Monsieur de Chavigny would not have been 
 flattered to know that this belated ray of sun 
 shine had waited for his departure. 
 
 In clandestine correspondence she had shared 
 this hope with Hector, asking absolution in her 
 prayers for this loyalty of the mother, so disloyal 
 to the husband. To indulge this hope, whose reali 
 zation was dependent upon a contingency she did 
 not dare to frame in words, to write with her pen 
 the beloved name her lips were forbidden to pro 
 nounce, was the blackest sin ever committed by 
 Julie de Chavigny. Hector was not troubled by 
 such scruples. Immediately after the death of his 
 father he wrote that on settling his affairs abroad 
 he would return to France and restore to her the 
 mother s birthright. He had made a will in favor 
 of the children. Courage! 
 
 Alas, all these plans had come to naught. 
 Scarcely a month after Monsieur de Chavigny s 
 death Hector s followed, leaving a woman, already 
 solitary, more solitary and more in need than ever. 
 
 Sitting one late afternoon in the chair from 
 which she was accustoming herself to survey life, 
 his last letters in her lap, she was asking why 
 
 101 
 
HELEN 
 
 she should not herself endeavor to realize their 
 promises. Initiative had been so long denied her 
 that the thought paralyzed her. In the drawer 
 of the escritoire beside her was a precious heir 
 loom. She had taken it that very morning from 
 the safe. How often she had clasped it about the 
 neck her arms had never encircled! She must be 
 almost a woman now, with hair and eyes like her 
 own Helene. 
 
 She rang for candles. 
 
 f In their feeble light the face of the Count in the 
 portrait between the tapestries looked down upon 
 her. On the table at her elbow was a miniature 
 H61ene. She opened the desk and, selecting one 
 of the letters in her lap, copied from it the address 
 Madame John Lee, Villa Fontana, Mentone, 
 Alpes Maritimes, France. Her hand trembled. 
 To write! It was like seeing, touching. 
 
 Once more, against her will, she looked at the 
 face between the tapestries. 
 
 She began to write again. 
 
 For it is written: Love is stronger than Death. 
 
 It was at that moment that a motor stopped 
 before the gloomy doorway in the narrowest por 
 tion of the Rue du Bac. 
 
 It was five o clock, and much darker than usual 
 at that hour owing to the fine rain. Lights were 
 already burning in the shop windows on either 
 side of the entrance. One of these windows was 
 
 102 
 
HELEN 
 
 ornamented with colored prints of the Cries of 
 London, bits of lace and stray pieces of old silver 
 and china, behind which, in the dim interior, amid 
 a confusion of chairs and tables covered with bric- 
 a-brac and remnants of brocade, sat a little old 
 man whose age corresponded with that of his 
 wares. The other window, under the sign Delica 
 tessen, was more brilliantly lighted, as befitted its 
 cream cheeses wrapped in tinfoil, its Strasbourg 
 p&tes and glistening sausages, temptingly dis 
 played on a slab of polished marble. 
 
 On account of the rain there were no loiterers 
 before the windows, but as the car drew up beside 
 the curb the occupant of the antiquity shop hur 
 ried to the door to discover if possible which of 
 the lodgers overhead was honored by so unusual a 
 visitor. Several of the passers-by also stopped to 
 gaze curiously at the American chains on the tires, 
 and then at the pretty face of the young girl with 
 the bunch of violets in her corsage who stepped 
 lightly from the motor and disappeared under the 
 archway. 
 
 The evil-minded might have asked what was 
 the errand of this young girl entering, thus unat 
 tended, this somewhat forbidding and ill-lighted 
 doorway. No one, in truth, but herself had at that 
 moment the slightest idea of her whereabouts or 
 intentions. This did not prevent her, however, 
 from ascending the stairs as lightly as she had 
 stepped from the limousine, nor drive from her 
 
 103 
 
HELEN 
 
 face the smile of confident expectation with which 
 she pulled the dilapidated bell rope without the 
 door on the third landing. 
 
 A moment after, a thin old man, in a faded liv 
 ery bearing the marks of careful repairs, appeared, 
 holding in his hand a silver candlestick. 
 
 "Is Madame de Chavigny at home?" 
 
 The question was certainly one to be expected 
 of a visitor, and the face illumined by the candle 
 was not one to inspire terror. Yet something very 
 near to terror was depicted on the old man s coun 
 tenance as, recoiling a step, he stammered : 
 
 "Mademoiselle Helene!" 
 
 "Yes, I am Helene. Are you the Jacques of 
 whom my mother used to tell me?" 
 
 " Man Dieu, Mademoiselle truly I thought 
 you are so like mon Dieu, mon Dieu!" 
 
 In spite of his agitation, Helen was smiling. 
 She took the candle from his shaking hand and 
 set it on the console. 
 
 "Hush, my good Jacques. Will grandmamma 
 be glad?" 
 
 "Glad!" he ejaculated in a flutter of joy and 
 indecision. l But how to tell her ! how to tell her ! 
 
 For the first time Helen realized the rashness of 
 her action. It was her first draught of freedom, 
 an intoxicating wine. They had just arrived in 
 Paris and every hour had been a whirl of excite 
 ment. The Princess had already written Fearing, 
 still detained in London, that ten thousand francs 
 
 104 
 
HELEN 
 
 were absurdly inadequate for the presentation of 
 an American granddaughter to a French grand 
 mother. She was not in the least sceptical of the 
 results of any matter she had in hand, but she 
 had a strict regard for the mise-en-scene. Above 
 all, being very proud of Helen, she took very seri 
 ously her own part in the presentation, which was 
 not to be effected without due tact and premedi 
 tation. In all this Helen apparently acquiesced. 
 She was not free from a certain misgiving, born of 
 the silence which always attended the mention of 
 Madame de Chavigny s name in the Villa Fon- 
 tana, mingled with a latent aversion to being 
 ushered into that lady s presence by any one, even 
 Aunt Tatia. At tea-time that afternoon the la 
 tent aversion suddenly became an impulse. She 
 was alone. Jack had gone with Dimitri to an avia 
 tion meeting at Vincennes. The Princess was out. 
 She put on her new hat and stole, fastened the 
 violets Jack had bought her in her corsage, and 
 ordered the motor, resolved to be her own mes 
 senger, to make her own appeal. 
 
 It had all seemed very simple till now when, 
 standing in the antechamber, the tinkling sound 
 of a bell from the adjoining room told her there 
 was no time for wavering. 
 
 11 1 will tell her, Jacques." The smile was re 
 assuring. "Which is the door this one?" And 
 turning the handle designated she opened the door 
 and went in. 
 
 105 
 
HELEN 
 
 The room was large and dimly lighted by a few 
 scattered candles, spots of light which softened its 
 decidedly faded appearance. Helen did not notice 
 this now. She saw only the figure in black in the 
 deep armchair by the escritoire. But she had 
 occasion to observe it later, and to feel the differ 
 ence between the carefully preserved antiquities 
 of the Rue du Bac and the restored article of the 
 Villa Fontana. 
 
 She had never seen her grandmother before. 
 The miniature among her mother s treasures was 
 that of a young woman. To the woman in the 
 chair the years allotted by the Hebrew King had 
 already been granted. Yet neither these years nor 
 their sorrows had left upon her face their usual 
 traces. They had robbed her limbs of vigor, as the 
 cane leaning against the chair indicated ; but they 
 had ploughed no furrows about the mouth, nor 
 stolen from the eyes any of their brightness. 
 Scarcely had they touched the hair falling about 
 the temples in soft brown curls after the manner 
 of a bygone fashion. Helen thought of a flower 
 growing in an attic window. 
 
 At the young girl advancing thus unannounced 
 she looked up in surprise. Then surprise fell away 
 and certainty, the blessed realization of years of 
 hope and patience, came in its place. 
 
 "Helene!" 
 
 * Grandmamma ! 
 
 Jacques at the half-open door closed it dis- 
 106 
 
HELEN 
 
 erectly. Habit and solicitude brought him back 
 with the sherry and biscuit a half-hour later 
 longer he could not wait to share in his capa 
 city of old and faithful servant the sunshine for 
 whose admission he took the credit. His hand 
 shook as he poured the sherry, but his wrinkled 
 face was radiant as he tiptoed from the room with 
 a lingering glance at the sunshine sitting on the 
 tabouret at Madame de Chavigny s feet. 
 
XI 
 
 THEY were smiling at each other, shyly, strangers 
 still in spite of kinship and joy. 
 
 11 1 had to come, grandmamma, and I wanted 
 to come this way, alone, without any one, even 
 Jack. I have wanted to all these years but I 
 was not free." 
 
 "Alas, no one is free, dear." 
 
 "But I am free, I am free!" Madame de 
 Chavigny looked down into the young face, so 
 frank, so self-confident and candid. A girl, a mere 
 child, with everything to learn. All her own grief 
 had been the fruit of that tree, of this joyous dis 
 regard for all the dogmas of her ancient code, this 
 open hospitality toward life. Hers had known so 
 many walls and barriers that had not kept her 
 safe! " I have a horrible feeling that it is because 
 of Uncle Hector s money. I try to hate it, but I 
 cannot. It s that that makes me free." 
 
 The brown eyes above her were shining with 
 tears. "Were you so sad down there?" 
 
 "Don t say that" she thought of the other 
 woman at whose feet she had sat a few days be 
 fore "I did n t mean that. I was only trying 
 to tell you how changed everything is every 
 thing the whole world. The first thought I 
 
 108 
 
HELEN 
 
 had was of you, of doing just what I am doing. 
 Yet I was afraid. Did n t you know I would 
 come?" 
 
 "Know, my child! Was I not writing this very 
 day? All these lost years I have longed for you, 
 only to see you, to look at you as I am looking 
 now and I was afraid, too. I said to myself, 
 perhaps it is better so. Who knows whether this 
 child born in a strange land will love her old French 
 grandmother? Perhaps it will be one more dis 
 illusion, one more than I can bear. I was like one 
 of those stones brought down by the torrent, 
 which finds a resting-place, which wears for itself 
 a cavity in the rock over which the waters pass 
 without molesting it any more. And you" She 
 drew the head into her lap, stroking the hair with 
 her thin hand "you bring the spring, the spring 
 that comes to the heart in life s winter, the spring 
 you will not know till you have exhausted your 
 own, till you begin to gather for others the flow 
 ers you once gathered for yourself." 
 
 Helen could not speak. She had wanted love, 
 happiness and they stifled her. 
 
 "Tiens!" the hand had discovered the dia 
 mond cross in its hiding-place under the stole 
 "that was your mother s. I remember the day her 
 father gave it to her." She touched it caressingly, 
 but brushed the crowding memories aside. " Mon 
 Dieul mademoiselle!" she exclaimed playfully, 
 "when you came into this room you were smiling. 
 
 109 
 
HELEN 
 
 Lift up your face eh, you must? Well, then, let 
 them come those tears do no harm." She 
 slipped the cross back again into its place. "That 
 reminds me. Give me the box in the drawer of 
 the escritoire. How wonderful that I should have 
 taken it to-day from the safe ! There are presen 
 timents not accounted for by the Academy of 
 Sciences no, the second drawer yes, that is it. 
 Sit down, dear, close beside me." She took the 
 box from Helen s hand. These are your mother s 
 letters precious letters I was reading them 
 to-day. You shall take them with you, and some 
 day we will read them again together. These are 
 Hector s" 
 
 "May I not take them too?" 
 
 Madame de Chavigny hesitated. 
 
 "You wish them also? Well, take them we 
 will have no secrets ; and when you read them you 
 will say to yourself, it is nothing, a bagatelle: but 
 this" her hand went down to the bottom of the 
 box and drew out a shagreen case "this is not 
 a bagatelle. Your grandfather presented it to me 
 the day of our marriage. It is a little old-style. 
 Perhaps nowadays emeralds are not set in this 
 fashion, but with your hair " 
 
 Grandmamma 
 
 "Come, come, mademoiselle" fighting her 
 own tears "we will have no more weeping, 
 though it becomes you mightily. At present, nat 
 urally, they are not suitable for you. But some 
 
 no 
 
HELEN 
 
 day, when you are married quand le cceur dispose" 
 the crowding memories had their way at last. 
 " I was at the Opera, a young girl like you, watch 
 ing Marguerite putting on her jewels, when your 
 grandfather came and asked to be presented. 
 How I trembled! And now these things remain, 
 while that which is a thousand times more pre 
 cious passes away." 
 
 She dropped the shagreen case into the box and 
 closed the lid. It fell with a little snap, shutting 
 in the memories. 
 
 "And your Jack, what is he like? You must 
 bring him to me at once." 
 
 "Jack and I are quite different. He s wild over 
 going home." 
 
 "Home?" repeated the old lady wistfully. 
 
 "He worships everything American." 
 
 "What will you do without him, little mother? " 
 
 "I shall have you, and you will have me." 
 
 "You have no wish to go to your own coun 
 try?" 
 
 "Why do you call it my country? Is not yours 
 mine? It was my mother s. I belong to two 
 countries." 
 
 "One can really belong to one only, and those 
 who cross the great ocean leave country behind. 
 God forbid it should be otherwise. You are right 
 to let him go. He belongs to another race, the 
 race which adopted my Hector and took from 
 me your mother " 
 
 in 
 
HELEN 
 
 "But you forgave her, grandmamma, you for 
 gave her." 
 
 " I did more, my child." Over the upturned face 
 she saw the man between the tapestries, whom she 
 had forgiven too. "And this Monsieur Fearing, 
 he is good to you, you like him?" 
 
 "Jack adores him." 
 
 "And you, dear?" 
 
 "He guards Jack and the money he 
 does n t guard me." 
 
 Madame de Chavigny smiled. 
 
 "You must bring him to me some day. I should 
 like to see him also." 
 
 "He is in London now. When he comes back, 
 if he ever does, the Princess will." 
 
 Tatia! She had forgotten her! What would 
 Tatia think! She must go at once. To-morrow? 
 Yes, and the next day, and the next every day. 
 There was the clasp of strong young arms about 
 the neck, the rise and fall of a bosom against her 
 own, the pressure of fresh, warm lips on her cheek, 
 and Madame de Chavigny was alone a stray 
 violet petal in her lap. 
 
 At the door of the anteroom Helen in her haste 
 ran into the arms of a young man who was wait 
 ing to be admitted. He was expecting the appear 
 ance of the dignified and ceremonious Jacques 
 when this whirlwind of loveliness and happiness 
 burst upon him, knocking his hat from his hand. 
 There was a stammering exchange of apologies, a 
 
 112 
 
HELEN 
 
 furious rushing of blood to cheeks, a meeting and 
 parting of eyes, a passing fragrance of violets, a 
 patter of heels on the stone steps, and Monsieur de 
 Tr6court, groping for his hat on the dimly lighted 
 landing, was muttering to himself : 
 
 "Norn de Dieul It is the cave of ^Eolus!" 
 
XII 
 
 HARDLY had Helen ensconced herself in the deep 
 cushions of the limousine, her precious letters 
 tightly grasped beneath her stole, when the young 
 man of the encounter on the landing came breath 
 less and bareheaded through the archway, Ma 
 dame de Chavigny s box in his hand. 
 
 "Pardon, mademoiselle," he cried, motioning 
 to the chauffeur to wait, "Madame la Comtesse 
 begs me to deliver to you what doubtless in your 
 haste" the eyes sparkled maliciously "you 
 have forgotten. She assures me also that what I 
 have the honor to bring you is most precious " 
 
 The color mounted to Helen s cheeks as she 
 put out her hand. 
 
 "Thank you; I am sorry to have so inconven 
 ienced " 
 
 " But it is no inconvenience ! it is an inestimable 
 privilege, and I assure you if what I hold in my 
 hand is as precious as Madame de Chavigny as 
 serts, I am confident it was not her intention that 
 I should deliver it till you were safe in your hotel." 
 
 "Did Madame de Chavigny " 
 
 "Oh, please, mademoiselle," he interrupted 
 again pleadingly, "do not question me too closely. 
 Let us think only of the contents of this precious 
 box." 
 
 114 
 
HELEN 
 
 Helen gazed at him in astonishment. This 
 young man was certainly very amusing, and his 
 speech was the speech of a mountain torrent. She 
 was resolved not to smile, and kept her mouth 
 firmly in hand, but she was at that moment in 
 toxicated with happiness and could not altogether 
 banish a strange delight from her eyes. 
 
 " The streets of Paris are not so unsafe, mon 
 sieur, that " 
 
 But he would not let her finish. 
 
 That is true. I admit that we are not in the 
 region of Apaches nevertheless, with precious 
 things too much caution is impossible." 
 
 His voice was not insistent, only imploring 
 the eager voice of a child. How absurd he was! 
 She began to laugh, the low, inextinguishable 
 laughter of youth. 
 
 " But I do not know you, monsieur. There is no 
 need" 
 
 "Mademoiselle, I am Jean Francois Henri 
 you see it is a long story, too long to detain you 
 in this manner de Trecourt," he continued, in 
 utter disregard of one argument while hastening 
 to another, "and I am a not too distant relative 
 of Madame de Chavigny, and most trustworthy." 
 
 "Tr6court!" she murmured under her breath; 
 "that was one of my mother s names." 
 
 "There! you see," he cried triumphantly; "I 
 have the right to accompany you we might 
 even be some sort of cousins." 
 
HELEN 
 
 " But you have no hat, Monsieur de Trecourt." 
 
 Unguarded admission! 
 
 "Ah, for that you have no right to reproach 
 me, since it is for you I abandoned it up there 
 at Madame de Chavigny s door." 
 
 The lips parted above the point of the small 
 chin, and the firm lines of the mouth broke again. 
 It was delicious to be free! 
 
 " Come, then, sit there in front of me and finish 
 your story." 
 
 " Mademoiselle, I attribute your kindness solely 
 to this precious box which you were so good as to 
 forget, and if it is your pleasure I will sit here till 
 time comes to an end. When I had the good for 
 tune just now to lay my hat at your feet, I was 
 on my way to present my respects to Madame 
 de Chavigny, who is my godmother Does my 
 humble tale interest you?" 
 
 "Go on, monsieur." 
 
 " I reside in Avrincourt, which is in the Depart 
 ment of Seine-et-Oise, a territory which once 
 formed a part of the kingdom of France, and I 
 have come to Paris to take my examination in the 
 English and German languages perhaps you 
 speak these languages, mademoiselle." 
 
 "One language at present is quite sufficient for 
 me, monsieur," said Helen, leaning back in the 
 farthest corner the better to keep his eyes at bay. 
 "As for you, I counsel you to tell your Professor 
 at the Lyc6e that more than one is superfluous." 
 
 116 
 
HELEN 
 
 "Oh, mademoiselle, I implore you," he pro 
 tested, "do I look like a collegian! You compel 
 me to state that I am twenty-three, and that the 
 examinations I speak of are held at the Quai 
 d Orsay in the Ministry for Foreign Affairs. I 
 aspire to be a diplomat." 
 
 "You will make a famous one, Monsieur de 
 Trcourt; of that I am sure." 
 
 1 That is as it may be, he said dubiously. You 
 are not of my father s opinion. He is forever quot 
 ing the maxim of Monsieur de Talleyrand. When 
 I have passed my examinations I will endeavor to 
 make my speech conceal my thoughts. But for the 
 present I beg you to observe that if I had followed 
 the advice of Monsieur de Talleyrand I should 
 not now be here " The motor stopped. "Oh, 
 mon Dieu! already! these motors, how terribly 
 fast they go!" 
 
 His hand was on the door. 
 
 "Stay where you are, Monsieur de Tr6court. 
 You forget you have no hat." 
 
 " It is true, I am an outcast, and I disgrace you. 
 Oh, mademoiselle, if we should return for it!" 
 
 "Monsieur de Trecourt," frowning, "my box, 
 if you please." 
 
 He yielded it reluctantly. 
 
 "Some day you will come to my godmother s 
 again will you not? I am positive she adores 
 you." 
 
 The frown deepened. 
 
HELEN 
 
 " Monsieur de Tr6court, Madame de Chavigny 
 is my grandmother." 
 
 1 Your grandmother!" He took the words out 
 of her mouth. 
 
 The discovery, so far from disconcerting him, 
 filled him with joy. "Then certainly I shall see 
 you again." 
 
 The frown was now so dark he opened the door 
 instantly. 
 
 " Peter," she said to the chauffeur coldly, "you 
 will take Monsieur de Trecourt back to the Rue 
 du Bac. That will be all to-night." 
 
 "Mademoiselle," said a voice through the win 
 dow of the limousine, "I am here like an animal 
 in a cage, but if I had my hat I would follow that 
 frown to the end of the world." 
 
 The averted face turned, their eyes met, and 
 the frown melted away. He was too ridiculous! 
 
 "Au revoir," he whispered. 
 
 With an impulse regretted a second too late she 
 tore the violets from her corsage and dropped 
 them within the open window. 
 
 Alone in her room that night, Helen went to 
 the drawer in whose farther corner under the lin 
 gerie reposed Madame de Chavigny s leather box. 
 Above the letters was the shagreen case. She 
 turned on the lights either side of the mirror, 
 spreading the emeralds on the white cover of the 
 dressing-table. Very paltry in comparison was 
 
 118 
 
HELEN 
 
 her mother s little cross of diamonds, yet it was 
 the cross she kissed before replacing the emeralds 
 in their case. 
 
 Old and yellow they were, these letters of her 
 mother s, each in its own envelope with queer, 
 old-fashioned stamps, addressed in a fine hand 
 and beginning, "Chere petite maman." She 
 thrust them back hurriedly into the drawer at the 
 sound of footsteps. 
 
 It was only Jack, coming, as he always did be 
 fore going to bed, to relate his adventures and 
 confess his sins. 
 
 He stretched himself out on the hearth-rug be 
 fore the fire, full of aviation marvels, in which he 
 thought Helen lacked a decent interest. She had 
 on a new nglig6 , not made in the Villa Fontana, 
 of which he highly approved, and he promised 
 cheerfully to go with her the next afternoon to 
 Madame de Chavigny s, although his experience 
 with grandmothers did not excite his enthusiasm. 
 
 Lying on his stomach, elbows on rug and chin 
 in hands, his eyes fixed admiringly on the nglig6, 
 he suddenly broke out with: "Helen, do you re 
 member that day we went to Dolceaqua?" 
 
 "Yes, Jack. Why?" 
 
 "And do you remember that little boy we found 
 asleep under the olive tree at Camporosso?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "You said he was so beautiful you wanted to 
 kiss him and I would n t let you." 
 
 119 
 
HELEN 
 
 "What makes you think of that, Jack?" 
 
 Jack sat up. " You were ever so much younger 
 then, Helen." 
 
 "Yes, of course." 
 
 "Ever so much. Say, Helen." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " You look just the way you did then ever so 
 much younger." 
 
 "That s nonsense, Jack. I m ever so much 
 older." 
 
 "You do; it isn t nonsense. And the funny 
 thing is you seem so much older so do I." 
 
 "You had better go to bed, Jack, if you want 
 to grow up to be really old." 
 
 Jack rose, yawned, and went over and kissed 
 her grandiloquently. 
 
 " I m glad I did n t let you kiss that boy." 
 
 "Why?" she laughed. 
 
 "Oh, I don t know. How he jumped when I 
 dropped that olive on his chin!" 
 
 "Jack, you re a horrid boy." 
 
 "I know I am, and you re a " He finished 
 the sentence with another longer kiss, this time 
 in the curves of the neck. "Good-night." 
 
 After he had gone she went back to the letters 
 not her mother s, Hector s. What did her 
 grandmother mean by saying it was only a 
 bagatelle? 
 
 There were only two one a message for a 
 name-day, the other dated only a year ago. 
 
 120 
 
HELEN 
 
 I have to-day made a will, following your instruc 
 tions. You say you want nothing but my love. How 
 can I give you what you have already? And that it is 
 your wish that all should go to H61ene s children. So 
 be it. That was also my wish, which I now carry out 
 with your approbation. 
 
 A bagatelle! O grandmamma, grandmamma! 
 
 And I think I have selected some one in whom we 
 may have confidence to carry out our wishes when we 
 two are no longer here. 
 
 She thrust the letter quickly into the box, 
 slipped from one neglig6 into another, turned 
 out the lights, and stole into bed. 
 
 Oh, yes, she remembered that day at Campo- 
 rosso, the wide valley warm with color, the stuc 
 coed houses splashed with yellow, the red tiles of 
 the campanile of San Sebastiano, and the green 
 waters of the Nervia hurrying to the blue sea. She 
 could hear now the rickety old omnibus rumbling 
 by, its axles groaning under its load of peasants. 
 The leaves of the olives were silvery in the sun 
 and the little boy asleep what a tease Jack was ! 
 And farther on, just beyond the bend in the road, 
 the sun had disappeared, the valley narrowed and 
 deepened, the Nervia became a rocky torrent, and 
 the twin towers of the Doria appeared above the 
 black roofs of Dolceaqua. She had wanted to go 
 back, but Jack would go on, into the twilight of 
 the narrow streets slippery with oil, up the steps 
 under the vaulted passage to the bastions of the 
 
 121 
 
HELEN 
 
 castle, past the men* lounging before the wine 
 shop, the children playing in the damp doorways, 
 the women washing in the river above the mill. 
 How far and long ago it seemed ! They were real 
 children then, truants, too, whose raid had cost 
 them liberty for weeks afterward ; and Jack, ever 
 indignant at wrongs, had been caught in the act 
 of writing a letter to the mythical French grand 
 mother whom he vaguely classified with Santa 
 Claus and other unseen deities of his childish 
 Pantheon. She smiled at the recollection, back 
 again on the tabouret in the Rue du Bac. "One 
 can belong to only one country." The curly- 
 headed boy asleep under the olives was no kin 
 of hers. No ancestors of hers had harvested the 
 chestnuts on those rocky slopes. What was her 
 country? Not Dolceaqua the eyes began to 
 close, the mind began to wander. For the second 
 time a man this time a mere boy what a 
 persistent ridiculous boy ! had brought her 
 jewels. A voice in the far distance droned, " I am 
 Jean Francois Henri " the lips curved again in 
 a smile, the veils of sleep fell softly one by one, 
 and the grim Doria towers, looking down above 
 Dolceaqua, indifferent to time, contemptuous of 
 the present, grew dim and disappeared. 
 
 "Dimitri," the Princess, also in neglige, was 
 that moment saying, " imagine where Helen has 
 been this afternoon alone." 
 
 122 
 
HELEN 
 
 u To her grandmother s." 
 
 "She told you!" There was a hint of jealousy 
 in the voice. 
 
 "No." 
 
 "You don t mean to say you guessed it!" 
 
 "Where else should she go alone? It has been 
 in her eyes ever since we left Nice." 
 
 Tatia winced. Her plans had gone astray. She 
 could not reasonably complain, though she had 
 thought to cross that bridge herself. Was Helen 
 getting out of hand? 
 
 "She brought back the Chavigny emeralds with 
 her." 
 
 " Did she? " said Dimitri, not at all impressed. 
 "She deserves them." 
 
 What else Helen brought back the Princess did 
 not say, though she was at the window when the 
 motor returned. 
 
XIII 
 
 FEARING s face, as he came down the grand stair 
 case of the Carleton, wore the abstracted expres 
 sion of a man who is uncertain what to do. He 
 had a bundle of cables and unopened letters in 
 his hand not in keeping with his evening dress. 
 He had been in the City all day, and the bundle 
 was proof that evening dress had not wholly di 
 vorced him from City affairs. It was in his mind 
 to look over his correspondence between the 
 courses of his dinner, dinner not being for him a 
 necessarily solemn function of purely physical 
 enjoyment. Perhaps, afterwards, he would stroll 
 out in search of an hour s distraction at the near 
 est theatre. 
 
 He sat down quietly at a table in a remote 
 corner of the restaurant, laid his mail beside his 
 plate, and opened the uppermost of its variously 
 assorted documents. It happened to be a laconic 
 note from the Princess Ghica announcing the fact 
 that they had secured an apartment in a desirable 
 quarter, and suggesting that the inroads of the 
 Rue de la Paix on his check required attention. 
 She was not speaking for Helen, but merely "as 
 a business woman to a business man "the 
 adjectives underlined who would recognize the 
 
 124 
 
HELEN 
 
 necessity for definite arrangements. She could 
 not be expected to assume the responsibility for 
 Helen with one foot in the air! 
 
 He put the letter down and took up another. 
 The waiter handed him the menu obsequiously. 
 Assertiveness in its blatant forms was not one of 
 his characteristics. There was nothing of con 
 scious self-importance in his manner. But there 
 was something about him which the discerning 
 servitor always detected as worth instant and un 
 remitting attention. He ordered his dinner with 
 out reference to the menu, the open letter in his 
 hand, untroubled by the perplexities of choice, 
 and shook his head at the maitre-d h6tel who 
 spread the wine-list before him at its most attrac 
 tive page. 
 
 Halfway through this disposition of dinner and 
 business, a short, thick-set man with his hands in 
 his pockets and a waist line which proclaimed din 
 ner to be his chief quest, sauntered through the 
 doorway. He stopped here and there to exchange 
 a greeting, but his small, quick eye had detected 
 the occupant of the table in the corner. 
 
 "Well, by all the gods!" he exclaimed, reaching 
 out a short, thick hand. 
 
 "Hullo, Jim," said Fearing; "glad to see you. 
 Are you dining?" 
 
 "Dining! of course I m dining. What do you 
 suppose I m here for?" 
 
 "Sit down and dine then," said Fearing. 
 
 125 
 
HELEN 
 
 "Well, well, it s good to see you. Alone, as 
 usual?" 
 
 "For the present, yes." 
 
 "For the present! Where s Mrs. Fearing?" 
 
 "She s not in sight yet. Where s Mrs. Jim?" 
 
 " Paris bound for Egypt where I ought to 
 be, out of this damned beastly fog." 
 
 "New York for winter sunshine, Jim." 
 
 "That s so. Best winter climate in the world 
 if you don t mind the thermometer. I d almost 
 forgotten it." 
 
 "You ve bought over here, have n t you?" 
 
 "Yes, anchored fast. Town house shut up 
 now moor in Scotland. Madge 11 never go 
 back." 
 
 "Given up painting." 
 
 "Oh, no, but between you and me, you know, 
 I don t mind confessing it, I ve done with 
 the money end of the brush. Got a studio on the 
 top floor where the men smoke after dinner 
 tapestry, men in armor, and all that sort of 
 thing. The women love it. Madge serves tea 
 there in the afternoon, and the whiskey-and- 
 soda s on the sideboard. The grubbing days are 
 over." 
 
 "So I ve heard. You should n t have married 
 money, Jim. It s sure death to work." 
 
 "Yes, of course. But what s work for money, 
 is n t it? I Ve got the money without the work. 
 Come, now, what else are you working for?" 
 
 126 
 
HELEN 
 
 "Work s sake, I suppose." 
 
 " All bosh sheer nonsense, and you know it. 
 When Madge played the angel she turned the 
 Garden of Eden story upside down drove me 
 in instead of out." 
 
 "I m glad you re on the side of the gate you 
 like," Fearing said dryly. 
 
 "Oysters!" said Jim to the waiter; "no, that s 
 one thing I can t stand. Copperheads!" 
 
 "Don t raise international questions," inter 
 posed Fearing. 
 
 Jim gave his order and crossed his arms on the 
 table enquiringly. 
 
 "What s up? Awfully sorry the house is closed. 
 Shall I put you up at the club?" 
 
 "Thanks; I m crossing to-morrow." 
 
 "Channel or pond?" 
 
 "Channel." 
 
 Jim glanced at the letters. "Not work over 
 there." 
 
 "No; a little run with the motor before going 
 home." 
 
 "What, alone!" 
 
 "No, not alone." 
 
 The turtle soup paused halfway to the lips. 
 
 "Hope I m not inquisitive." 
 
 " Not a bit. I Ve got my family over there." 
 
 "Oh, I see" quite satisfied and dropping the 
 subject discreetly "family of one." 
 
 " No, two a boy and a girl." 
 127 
 
HELEN 
 
 "The devil you say!" Curiosity legitimate 
 again. " Where d you pick them up?" 
 
 " I did n t. To be strictly truthful they picked 
 me up." 
 
 Mystified, Jim wavered between the soup and 
 curiosity. Having no longer any business of his 
 own, his interest was keen in that of others. 
 
 "Picked you up! What do you mean?" 
 
 Fearing bowed to the inevitable. 
 
 "Do you remember Chavigny in New York?" 
 
 "Chavigny? Certainly. Used to be Consul- 
 General remember him well. What s he got 
 to do with it?" 
 
 "Nothing now, Jim," smiled Fearing, enjoying 
 the pertinacity. "He s dead." 
 
 " Is that so ! Fine old chap, Chavigny was. Had 
 a devilish pretty sister, too, killed in a wreck 
 over here, was n t she?" 
 
 "Yes; these are her children." 
 
 "Oh, I see" not seeing at all. "Where do 
 you come in?" 
 
 "As executor." 
 
 " Chavigny s? Did n t know he had any money. 
 There was a family row there somewhere, was n t 
 there? Oh, yes, I remember now all about it. 
 Made quite a stir, that accident did. Madge saw 
 the grandmother once. Has a regular botanical 
 garden somewhere on the Riviera. Stiff old lady ! 
 Why did n t you leave the kids with her?" 
 
 "I did n t wish to." 
 
 128 
 
HELEN 
 
 "Oh, motor trip s for them, eh?" 
 
 Fearing, who was smoking now, leaned back 
 and surveyed his friend meditatively. There was 
 nothing to suggest the table manners of the Zo 
 ological Garden, but there was the same intense 
 satisfaction. 
 
 " For the boy, yes. I am taking him back with 
 
 me." 
 
 "Humph ! Girl must be pretty if she s anything 
 like her mother." 
 
 "Pretty is n t exactly the word, Jim." 
 
 The diminutive was no evidence of affectionate 
 familiarity. James Stuart, one-time artist, was 
 Jim to everybody. It was as impossible to as 
 cend to formal James as it would be to address 
 the French bulldog Bob on the bearskin in Mr. 
 Stuart s studio as Robert. Neither the dog nor 
 his master resented the diminutive as implying 
 a disparaging condescension. 
 
 Jim laid down the weapons with which he was 
 attacking the duck and looked over at Fearing 
 paternally. He was by far the older of the two 
 and inclined to advice on worldly topics. 
 
 " My boy," he began, waving his fork to enforce 
 the statement 
 
 "There s no occasion to worry about that," 
 said Fearing shortly. 
 
 "Oh, fatherly interest, is it?" Jim retreated in 
 good order. "You can t shut your eyes to sex," he 
 said sententiously, steering his way out through 
 
 129 
 
HELEN 
 
 generalities. "Always get beaten at that. Better 
 give it a wide berth. The women have got the 
 Government groggy over here. After they ve 
 abolished all the differences they can well, 
 there s no use talking. They ll rouse the old 
 Adam in us yet, before they get through makes 
 me clench my fist every time I see one and I m 
 a decent fellow. Say, Fearing," changing the sub 
 ject abruptly, " I m glad I ran across you. You re 
 the very man I wanted to see. May I ask you a 
 question?" 
 
 " You Ve asked me a good many already." 
 
 "This is another sort, your kind. Do you know 
 anything about Colombo Limited?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Madge has a lot of it preference shares/ 
 
 "Sell it." 
 
 "But it s going up." 
 
 "That s the reason." 
 
 "Is that a straight tip?" 
 
 "It s no tip at all. You asked me a question. 
 I answered it. Now I 11 ask you one. I had a mind 
 to drop into the Criterion this evening. Is it 
 worth while?" 
 
 "Bully. I would n t mind seeing it again my 
 self." 
 
 "Well, finish your dinner. I ll leave these 
 papers with my secretary and join you in the 
 lobby. We ll go together." 
 
 Jim drained the whiskey-and-soda, lighted his 
 
 130 
 
HELEN 
 
 cigar, and strolled out through the door. " Damned 
 funny fellow, but straight," he muttered to him 
 self. " I 11 sell that stuff to-morrow." 
 
 "Who s your solemn friend?" asked an ac 
 quaintance at a table of ladies as he passed by. 
 
 " Fearing New York. Say, got any Colombo 
 Limited?" 
 
 " Yes, a little. Why?" 
 
 "Chuck it." 
 "But it s going up." 
 
 "That s the reason. Chuck it." And he passed 
 on with the air of the man who knows. 
 
 What he really knew was that Fearing s word 
 could be relied upon as the naked truth, without 
 embroidery or omissions. 
 
 He settled himself comfortably on the circular 
 lounge in the lobby, one leg crossed over the other. 
 The survey of life from a condition of comfort was 
 his main resource. Life had been a struggle once. 
 He still growled at it, but the growl of comfort had 
 nothing in common with the growl of poverty. 
 Just like Fearing, he thought to load himself 
 up with a boy. You can thrash a boy when he 
 goes wrong but a girl ! Wonder if he s going to 
 take her on, too. No kids for him ! He d sell that 
 stuff of Madge s to-morrow, sure. 
 
 He went to the telegraph office and asked for a 
 blank. 
 
 Fearing s here. Going to Paris. Look him up. I ll 
 give him your address. JIM. 
 
HELEN 
 
 "Shall we go?" said a voice at his elbow. 
 
 "All ready. By the way, Fearing, you must 
 hunt up Madge in Paris. She s at the Imperial." 
 
 "I will," said Fearing. 
 
 Mr. Stuart s conversational talents were neces 
 sarily suspended during the three acts at the Cri 
 terion. The stage absorbed his undivided atten 
 tion. Fearing, not so easily entertained, utilized 
 the respite in reflections reflections suggested 
 chiefly by the conversation at the dinner table. 
 Why had n t he left Jack with his grandmother? 
 Why had he picked up, as Jim phrased it, a 
 strange boy, found on the roadside between Men- 
 tone and Ventimiglia, instead of sending a monthly 
 check to his natural guardian? The answer to that 
 question came instantly: because it was for the 
 boy s good, and because he wanted him to have 
 what was good for him. Was there any other rea 
 son? When he made up his mind about Jack, it 
 had not occurred to him that he would become 
 in any way involved with Helen. Certainly not. 
 Interest in Jack stopped with Jack. What had 
 happened afterwards? Looking the problem 
 squarely in the face, as was his wont, he found 
 himself looking into the face of Helen Helen 
 under the trellis at the gate of the Villa Fontana, 
 Helen hurrying down the path from the lodge 
 with his check in her bosom, Helen as depicted by 
 the Princess Ghica. Of course he was interested 
 in her. Who would n t be with such a grand- 
 
 132 
 
HELEN 
 
 mother! No one could help sympathizing with 
 her sympathy, no doubt, she would resent, but 
 sympathy. He had had the power to put a little 
 joy into her life, and he had enjoyed using it. 
 What had prompted him to invest that franc in 
 the little sheep-girl of Ventimiglia? The same de 
 sire to put a little joy into the heart, and, surely, 
 too, to see it blossom in the stolid face both ; 
 they were inseparable. The girl was not a musical 
 instrument incapable of the emotion it produced. 
 What other return was he expecting? None, abso 
 lutely none. Having thought the matter through 
 to this conclusion, he dismissed it. 
 
 Of the Princess s invitation he heartily ap 
 proved. Its acceptance had absolved him com 
 pletely from all responsibility of a personal kind. 
 There was nothing further for him to think of or 
 to do, other than the necessary financial arrange 
 ments very properly alluded to in the Princess s 
 letter. It was n t even necessary to go to Paris for 
 that. He could give Jack a run in England 
 winter was winter there as here. 
 
 " I m going over myself in a day or two," said 
 Jim as the curtain fell. "If you ll wait a bit I ll 
 cross with you." 
 
 "No, thanks, I m sailing in a fortnight." 
 
 The inference was that he had no time to spare, 
 but he had not said so. 
 
 At the Carleton entrance they exchanged fare 
 wells after the fashion of their greeting, as men 
 
 133 
 
HELEN 
 
 who were sure to meet again on some other Rialto, 
 and Fearing went to the office to write a telegram, 
 a mode of correspondence he utilized with national 
 liberality, saying he would arrive in Paris the fol 
 lowing evening. 
 
 The morning broke grey and sullen. Before 
 embarking at Dover the wind came up, bringing in 
 a wet, heavy fog. The steamer was crowded. Not 
 until the rising sea had driven the more sensitive 
 below could he find a place to sit down. He pulled 
 a chair into the shelter of a companionway. Noth 
 ing was to be seen save now and then a white 
 gleam on the ragged crest of a baffled wave, hurled 
 back on its fellows nothing but Jim across the 
 table, looking at him from under heavy eyelids, 
 Jim, attacking the duck. The obsession of Jim 
 nauseated him. Why had he talked with Jim at 
 all? 
 
 He acknowledged a certain respect for the ob 
 sessions of others, no matter how preposterous 
 they were. They had often modified his conduct, 
 while not deflecting him from his objective. Ideas 
 suggested by another are not always dismissed 
 readily simply because one has not entertained 
 them one s self. He was not destitute of imagina 
 tion, no really successful business man is. Jim 
 had switched that faculty off the beaten track 
 brutally. 
 
 Suddenly, where Jim had been, the lighthouse 
 on the jetty loomed up in the mist. He turned up 
 
 134 
 
HELEN 
 
 his coat collar, steadying himself against the lurch 
 as the steamer slid into smooth water. 
 
 "We re in, sir," said a deckhand, touching his 
 cap, "and a bit nasty it was, too, sir." 
 
 The cheery greeting cleared away the fog in his 
 brain. In a few weeks, New York! And through 
 the mist came the welcome vision of a black mass 
 of towering forms, pierced with myriad lights, and 
 above, white scarfs of steam floating away in the 
 night. 
 
 He gave his sailor friend a shilling and began to 
 get together his luggage. 
 
XIV 
 
 MADAME DE CHAVIGNY S best Sevres service and 
 silverware were seeing the light after years of 
 seclusion. 
 
 Jacques, with outside aid impressed for the 
 occasion, had been busy all the week unearthing 
 relics of former splendor. With every surface re 
 stored to its pristine brightness he regained a por 
 tion of his own youth. When at eight o clock he 
 stood behind Madame de Chavigny s chair his 
 face shone in the light of the candles no whit less 
 than the candelabra he had polished. Even the 
 faded livery forgot its shabbiness as he moved 
 about behind the guests, still a little dazed that 
 the sun should have penetrated this narrow street 
 and curtained room so long given over to silence. 
 Behind one chair he lingered longest, resentful 
 in his service of the prior claims of a Princess 
 Ghica, grande dame though she was, for to 
 his thinking there was but one real princess 
 present, the princess who had brought back the 
 sun. 
 
 She was sitting beside Monsieur de Trecourt, 
 younger, as Jack had said, than ever; and, omit 
 ting many irrelevant interruptions on the part 
 of less important persons, this is what they were 
 saying: 
 
 136 
 
HELEN 
 
 " It is strange that you did not know." 
 
 "How should I know, mademoiselle? Madame 
 de Chavigny told me nothing. She seized me by 
 the coat and thrust that precious box into my 
 hands, saying, Run, run make haste ! And I 
 ran. Moreover, you did not tell me till " 
 
 "You talked so fast I had no opportunity." 
 
 "But I was obliged to talk fast, otherwise, like 
 Madame de Chavigny, you would have said, Run, 
 go, make haste/ Not till I returned to search for 
 my hat you will pardon me for reminding you 
 of that hat, will you not? did I learn who you 
 really were." 
 
 "It makes no difference who I am." 
 
 "Ah, mademoiselle, do you know what Mon 
 sieur Taine says of a certain statue in the Louvre 
 that has had the misfortune to lose its arms?" 
 
 "What does he say?" 
 
 " It seems that philosophers have disputed over 
 those arms in the vain endeavor to discover what 
 the lady in question was doing. But I take sides 
 with Monsieur Taine who wisely remarks that it 
 makes no difference what she was doing, it being 
 quite sufficient that she is." 
 
 " Monsieur de Trecourt, Jacques has been offer 
 ing you " 
 
 "Oh, pardon," helping himself to the salmon, 
 " I was thinking of that lady in the Louvre. Might 
 I be so indiscreet as to ask you a question ? 
 whether you are pleased to be here?" 
 
 137 
 
HELEN 
 
 "What a question! Why should I not be 
 pleased to be with my grandmother?" 
 
 "Then I will make a confession. It is I who 
 am responsible for this dinner." 
 
 "You!" 
 
 "It was an inspiration that entered my head 
 when I returned for my hat. What ! I said to my 
 self, you are the granddaughter of Madame de 
 Chavigny, you have just arrived from America " 
 
 "You are mistaken. It is years since I was in 
 America." 
 
 "Never mind; all the same that is what I said, 
 and as I am not yet a diplomat I continue to say 
 what comes into my head. At some future day, 
 when I have reached a grade inconsistent with 
 truthfulness, I will say, What do I care where 
 mademoiselle chooses to reside? But for the 
 present I cannot bring myself to lies and treachery. 
 So I said to my godmother, What! she is from 
 America, she is perhaps about to return there, and 
 I shall never have the occasion to apologize for 
 my rudeness 
 
 "It was as much my fault as yours." 
 
 " What! I said, she is going to America " 
 
 "But I am not going to America." 
 
 "Did I know that at that time? Positively, 
 I said, if you cannot prevent it " 
 , " Monsieur de Trecourt ! " 
 
 " if you cannot prevent it, the least you can 
 do is to offer her a dinner. Oh, we had a famous 
 
 138 
 
HELEN 
 
 discussion ! To begin with, you were not going to 
 America. Then, you see, my godmother has not 
 gone into society these many years. Necessarily, I 
 observed, it must be a family dinner. She said she 
 had no gown suitable, the plate was in the safe, 
 the china you cannot imagine all the difficul 
 ties we had with the china ! Little difficulties, you 
 understand, such as a woman brings forward when 
 she is beginning to admit that they count for 
 nothing. But with a woman one never knows, so, 
 lest at the last moment she should change her 
 mind, I redoubled my arguments " 
 
 "Have you then so much experience with wo 
 men, Monsieur de Tr6court?" 
 
 "With one especially, my mother, who is, as 
 my father says, all women compounded into one. 
 You see her over there now. She is looking at me. 
 I wager she is saying, l What nonsense is he talk 
 ing? Dear mamma! she has the weakness of all 
 mothers. In order to restore the balance my father 
 does not agree with her." 
 
 For several minutes which seemed hours Helen s 
 attention was monopolized by Dimitri, who sat on 
 her right. 
 
 "What was I saying when " 
 
 "You were speaking of your arguments." 
 
 "Oh, yes. I had many. But the chief one I 
 made no use of." 
 
 "Let us talk of something else, Monsieur de 
 Tr6court." 
 
 139 
 
HELEN 
 
 " Mademoiselle," the voice sank lower, 
 "you have been kind to me, yet to mention the 
 least of your kindnesses would be to abuse them. 
 Let us speak by all means of what does not inter 
 est us. It is inadmissible to speak as children 
 but, do you know, I have often thought that if we 
 spoke and acted as children do, if we dared to be 
 thoughtless" 
 
 " I was thoughtless the other night, and I regret 
 it." 
 
 Monsieur de Tr6court suddenly remembered the 
 violets, a sample of which were reposing that mo 
 ment in his breast pocket. 
 
 " Since you remember it sufficiently only to 
 regret it I am satisfied." 
 
 How humble he was! 
 
 "Let us not talk about ourselves," was the val 
 iant reply; "there are subjects more interesting." 
 
 "But we are not talking about ourselves," he 
 cried gayly ; "we are talking of each other." Then 
 Madame de Chavigny rose, there was a sound of 
 moving chairs, and Helen s gloves slid to the floor. 
 " For you, I admit," he whispered as he gave them 
 to her, "it is a dull subject." 
 
 "Try to remember that," she said severely, 
 taking the arm Dimitri offered her. 
 
 When the men passed into the library Tr6court 
 lingered behind, speaking successively to several of 
 the ladies in the effort to make himself agreeable, 
 
 140 
 
HELEN 
 
 but in a manner so preoccupied that failure was 
 inevitable. 
 
 "Monsieur de Trecourt." 
 
 He started. The Princess Ghica was speaking. 
 
 "Come and sit down by me. You are not 
 smoking?" 
 
 "No, madame, not when I have something 
 better to do." 
 
 She made room for him on the divan. 
 
 "Your father has been speaking to me of 
 you." 
 
 "Of me, madame!" 
 
 "Oh, do not be alarmed. I form my own opin 
 ions, and I begin by making allowances. He tells 
 me you are about to enter the Service." 
 
 "Yes, madame. I passed my examinations last 
 week." 
 
 "The examinations at the Quai d Orsay are not 
 very important ones," she said, smiling; "some 
 times, in a salon, such as this one where we now 
 are, examinations take place which are of more 
 consequence." 
 
 He gave her an uneasy glance. 
 
 " Did you ever hear of that bird which hides its 
 head in the sand and flatters itself that it has 
 escaped observation?" 
 
 The blood surged up to his face. 
 
 "Madame, I beg of you to choose some other 
 subject. My studies in natural history have been 
 neglected." 
 
 141 
 
HELEN 
 
 The Princess laughed behind her fan. She never 
 delayed her declaration of war or offer of friend 
 ship. 
 
 " Monsieur de Tr6court," she said with a sud 
 den seriousness which turned his confusion into 
 alarm, "I know perhaps even less than you do 
 of natural history, but I have not sat opposite 
 you for an hour to no purpose, and since we are to 
 be comrades " 
 
 "Comrades, madame!" he faltered. 
 
 "Yes, comrades. Are you not about to enter 
 the same Service?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, I forgot; that is true." 
 
 Jacques was serving the coffee. What was this 
 extraordinary woman about to say next? Yet not 
 for worlds would he change the conversation or seek 
 to escape the delicious trouble in which it plunged 
 him. 
 
 " Doubtless, like all young men," continued the 
 Princess, "you have plans, ambitions." 
 
 "Ambitions, oh, yes, madame but plans 
 a poor attache without pay he does not make 
 plans." 
 
 "Well, then, instead of plans let us say pref 
 erences. Man Dieu ! at your age I had both. And 
 you are wrong, I assure you. When a man has 
 acquired reputation, has in other words become of 
 use, he is sent where he is needed, without regard 
 to his preferences. But a young man, a poor 
 attache without pay, who has no reputation and 
 
 142 
 
HELEN 
 
 is of no use whatever, what does it matter at the 
 foot of what ladder he begins to climb! Look, 
 Monsieur de Trecourt, you have put three lumps 
 of sugar already in your coffee. So, I say, in 
 your circumstances preferences are not to be 
 despised." 
 
 "Madame," he said, not knowing what to say, 
 and saying happily the first thing that came to 
 mind, "if I indulged in preferences I should not 
 dare to disclose them." 
 
 The Princess laughed outright. 
 
 " True. It is very bad taste to put dots on every 
 i. Still, when one has preferences it is not suffi 
 cient to indulge in them." She was opening and 
 closing her fan thoughtfully. "Do you happen 
 to know your chief in the Ministry, Monsieur de 
 Trecourt?" 
 
 "Monsieur Coulomb, the Minister, madame?" 
 
 "We will think about it. More difficult things 
 have been accomplished. But go, have your 
 cigar " 
 
 "O Princess," he cried, "if I could persuade 
 myself that you were my friend " 
 
 " Persuade yourself, by all means but not too 
 much. Recollect, there is one ladder one must 
 climb alone. Will you take my cup, please? I see 
 Madame de Chavigny beckoning to me. If you 
 have no engagement perhaps you will come for a 
 cup of tea with us to-morrow at five." 
 
 "At five, the Imperial " 
 
 143 
 
HELEN 
 
 " Well, yes," she laughed, "for the present it is 
 the Imperial. I forgot to mention our hotel, but 
 it seems you are informed of everything." 
 
 He watched her cross the room, and hardly 
 knowing what he was doing, stumbled into the 
 library. 
 
 "Tatia," said Helen on the way home, " I have 
 persuaded grandmamma to take tea with us to 
 morrow. We are going to the Bois in the after 
 noon. She has never been in a motor. We can 
 have tea in the small salon just a the intime , you 
 know." 
 
 "Intime!" echoed the Princess, "and I have 
 asked that young Trecourt. What a pity!" 
 
 Helen was silent. 
 
 "He amused me so," Tatia went on. "He re 
 minds me of Fearing." 
 
 "Mr. Fearing!" gasped Helen. "I cannot im 
 agine any one more different." 
 
 "They both say exactly what they think," said 
 Tatia emphatically. 
 
 "But they think such different things!" 
 
 The Princess laughed. "Naturally. Tr6court 
 is only a boy " 
 
 "Why, Aunt Tatia, " said Jack, "he s twenty- 
 three." 
 
 "Really, Monsieur Jack. What a greybeard !" 
 
 "He has n t got any beard," said Jack stoutly, 
 "but he s served his time in the army. He was in 
 
 144 
 
HELEN 
 
 the aviation corps, and he holds the army record 
 for altitude." 
 
 "And where, pray, did you obtain all this in 
 teresting information? Has Monsieur de Tr6court 
 been boasting to you?" 
 
 "No; I tried to make him tell me about it, but 
 he would n t. His father told me." 
 
 "So, that accounts for it. I lost sight of you 
 after dinner. You were smoking with the gentle 
 men in the library, I presume." 
 
 Jack laughed. " I should like to go up in a fly 
 ing machine. It must be great fun." 
 
 "You will do nothing of the sort," said Helen. 
 "It s most dangerous." 
 
 Jack s laugh was scornful and incredulous. 
 
 The Princess went to Helen s room for a ciga 
 rette and a little chat before retiring. 
 4 "You enjoyed yourself this evening?" 
 
 " Immensely. Is n t grandmamma a dear ! " 
 
 "Yes," assented the Princess. "We are a long 
 way from the Villa Fontana already." 
 
 Silence. , 
 
 "I wrote this morning." 
 
 "Ah! what did you write?" In default of an 
 immediate answer Tatia asked another question. 
 "What does she write you?" 
 
 Silence again. 
 
 "It s very difficult to write grandmamma," 
 said Helen at length. "She speaks about the gar 
 den. She does n t ask any questions. I told her 
 
 H5 
 
HELEN 
 
 about my shopping, and the Op6ra, and what Jack 
 was doing. It is n t easy to share happiness with 
 grandmamma. I sometimes wonder if she knows 
 what it is." 
 
 "Happiness, my child, like other things, grows 
 old. You will not recognize your own when you 
 are my age." 
 
 " You are not serious, Tatia." 
 
 "Quite. I spend my time saying to myself, 
 What a silly ignoramus you were then, Tati- 
 ana! " 
 
 Helen laughed. "At any rate, one can share 
 happiness with you, for you give it." 
 
 "Do I?" 
 
 "You know you do." 
 
 The Princess stood up, thrusting one slippered 
 foot out to the fire. "Well, in that case give me 
 back a little of it. I adore happiness." Helen 
 was silent. " Nothing in particular just happi 
 ness in general is that it?" 
 
 "Just happiness in general." 
 
 " But I like details better. Why are you happy, 
 Helen?" 
 
 Curled up in her chair, Helen was looking dubi 
 ously at the Princess s back. 
 
 "Isn t it enough that grandmamma is com 
 ing- ; 
 
 "Quite enough," laughed the Princess, throwing 
 her cigarette into the fire. " Go to bed now and 
 get your beauty sleep. You have such need of it ! " 
 
XV 
 
 DIMITRI was reading when Tatia returned to the 
 salon. He rose as she entered, and she gave him 
 her friendly smile for his never-failing courtesy. 
 
 She was apparently heedless of the need of any 
 beauty sleep for herself, for although it was late 
 she went to her desk and began to write. When 
 she had finished she took her letter to Dimitri and 
 laid it on the open page of his book. 
 
 "That s an excellent letter," he said, handing 
 it back to her. 
 
 "You think so?" 
 
 "Excellent. When Coulomb reads it he will 
 think it is you who are doing him a favor." 
 
 "Then you approve of it." 
 
 "Decidedly. It is a masterpiece. But I would 
 not send it." 
 
 She looked at him furtively, while taking the 
 combs from her hair. 
 
 "State your objections, please, Dimitri." 
 
 "It seems to me they are obvious, and I am 
 positive you are well aware of them." 
 
 "You think it ill-advised on my part to make 
 such a suggestion?" 
 
 "So far as Coulomb is concerned, no. He is an 
 excellent fellow, an old friend. He will be charmed 
 to do what he can to please you." 
 
 147 
 
HELEN 
 
 "But you have objections. Convince me, 
 please." 
 
 "There are many. To begin with, there is the 
 old one that you make up your mind too 
 quickly." 
 
 "Am I always wrong, Dimitri?" 
 
 He moved uneasily in his chair. 
 
 " Rules, Tatia dear, have their exceptions. In 
 this case your affections are running away with 
 you." 
 
 She was playing with the combs in her lap, 
 twisting them this way and that as their stones 
 caught the light. 
 
 "It takes you so long to come to the point," 
 she sighed. 
 
 " My dear Tatia," taking one of the combs from 
 her hand and examining it critically, "is it neces 
 sary to come to the point, as you say, when we 
 both understand each other perfectly?" 
 
 " I am not at all sure of that." 
 
 "Oh, if you throw doubts upon upon my 
 intelligence I will say that, although I did not 
 sit opposite our young friends to-night as you 
 did, I am not altogether blind." 
 
 "Ah, then you saw!" she said quickly. 
 
 " I certainly found it easier to engage the atten 
 tion of the neighbor on my right than that of the 
 young lady on my left. I know, too, since I know 
 you tolerably well, that from a conversation be 
 tween two giddy young persons at dinner you are 
 
 148 
 
HELEN 
 
 drawing conclusions which appear to me, since 
 you insist upon it, ridiculous." 
 
 The Princess was silent. 
 
 "Everything," she said at length, musingly, 
 "must have a beginning, and some things begin 
 with what you call giddiness." 
 
 " I am not disputing the beginning; I am think 
 ing of the end the conclusions of your imagina 
 tion. Nor do I blame Monsieur de Trecourt for 
 being a bit dazzled. But, seriously, to conclude 
 from a single meeting " 
 
 "Two." 
 
 "Two?" 
 
 " Yes, two. When I returned the other day I 
 saw Trecourt in the motor conversing with a 
 young lady who, in order to rid herself of him, 
 was obliged to give him the violets she was 
 wearing." 
 
 "There! You see now! I warned you in Nice 
 of the responsibility you were assuming. All the 
 more reason for prudence. You wish to add fuel 
 to the fire." 
 
 "Come, come, Dimitri, try to be logical. You 
 begin by saying one meeting is too little, and now 
 you pretend that two are too many." 
 
 "Tatia, it is impossible to argue with you." 
 
 "I have no wish to argue. I only ask what 
 objections you have to Monsieur de Trecourt." 
 
 " Good Heavens, Tatia! I only know the young 
 man since yesterday." 
 
 149 
 
HELEN 
 
 " But you know very well who he is. You have 
 nothing against him, no objections to his fam- 
 
 ay." 
 
 "None whatever. " 
 
 "Well, then, if " 
 
 "Wait a moment. You are proceeding in the 
 wrong direction. Let us go back to the beginning. 
 What is the use of discussing Tr6court s family? 
 Does Helen wish to enter it? Does that question 
 concern us? I know that you love. Helen " 
 
 "As my own child." 
 
 "That explains, but it does not justify." 
 
 "Then you forbid me to send this letter?" 
 
 "You know very well that is an ugly word 
 which I have not uttered. I counsel you to sleep 
 over it, to give yourself time for reflection." 
 
 Tatia had no desire to reflect. That Dimitri 
 was right she was well aware. She had given way 
 to an impulse. But after all, what did it matter! 
 No harm was intended and none had been done. 
 
 "I have reflected, Dimitri. You know how 
 things go at the Ministry. If a friend speaks, they 
 listen. Otherwise one goes into the first empty 
 pigeon-hole. It is not a question of bishops or 
 knights or castles, but of a simple pawn. What 
 difference does it make to Coulomb on what 
 square he stands? Absolutely none. What I ask 
 is a mere trifle, a nothing to give Tr6court a 
 crumb in Paris." 
 
 "For what purpose, Tatia?" 
 
 150 
 
HELEN 
 
 "O Dimitri, how terribly logical you are! Let 
 us call it a whim do you like that word better? " 
 
 He slipped the ivory paper-cutter between the 
 leaves of his book and closed it resignedly. 
 
 Reaching over his shoulder, she spread the vol 
 ume open again on his knee. 
 
 " There! dear bookworm, I am going. And if I 
 promise to reflect, will you reflect also?" 
 
 Without awaiting his answer, she stooped, 
 brushed his hair with her lips, and laughing softly 
 to herself went into her dressing-room. 
 
 Of course Dimitri was right for the present. 
 She had acted hastily. Her letter could wait. 
 Time would prove that she was right also. 
 
XVI 
 
 EVERY table at Celestin s was occupied. People 
 were standing, plates in hand, for lack of chairs. 
 The room was redolent of perfume and pastry, 
 and the lamps had been lit for effect, although the 
 afternoon sun streamed in under the arcade. 
 
 "Is not your name Lee?* 
 
 The question was addressed to a boy engaged 
 in the demolition of a small mountain of little 
 cakes. He paused reluctantly in his work of de 
 struction, partly through politeness and partly 
 through surprise, to admit that it was. 
 
 "And is not that your sister Helen at the 
 counter?" 
 
 Jack admitted this also. 
 
 He had been assisting Helen in the selection of 
 her purchases for the the intime, and was taking 
 advantage of the delay incident to getting posses 
 sion of them to demonstrate to his own satisfac 
 tion the wisdom of his choice. 
 
 At the mention of her name Helen turned to 
 meet the pale-blue eyes of a dainty little woman 
 of pink and white complexion and yellow hair 
 very faintly suggestive of an art which struggles 
 rather by anticipation than necessity against the 
 ravages of years. She came directly forward with 
 an effusiveness which caused Helen to draw back 
 
 152 
 
HELEN 
 
 a little, but which was proof against the ordinary 
 barriers of reserve. 
 
 "How very fortunate! I heard you give the 
 address. I am Mrs. Stuart, a compatriot of yours. 
 I had a letter from my husband only this morning 
 telling me you were here. We are at the same 
 hotel. I was coming to congratulate you. I am 
 on my way to Egypt, but one never gets away 
 from Paris as soon as one expects, does one? Are 
 you to be here long?" 
 
 "Not very," said Jack, alert, and thoughtful of 
 Helen s reserve. "We are going to the Bois 
 grandma s waiting for us now." 
 
 "Oh, I didn t mean here, 1 said Mrs. Stuart 
 with a silvery laugh; "I meant Paris. So your 
 grandmother is with you. How delightful! I met 
 her once in that charming villa of hers near 
 Mentone." 
 
 "I am afraid you are mistaken," Helen has 
 tened to explain; "Jack means Madame de 
 Chavigny." 
 
 "Oh, I understand your mother s mother. 
 You see I know all about you." What Mrs. Stuart 
 did not know in the matter of people and their 
 connections was not worth knowing. * I used to 
 know your Uncle Hector in New York, but we 
 have given up New York for London." 
 
 "Did you?" said Helen, relenting. 
 
 "Quite well, and a most delightful man he was. 
 I m sorry to use the past tense, but it s very nice 
 
 153 
 
HELEN 
 
 for you." Helen froze again. "You are not stay 
 ing with Madame de Chavigny, then." 
 
 "No, we are with the Princess Ghica." 
 
 "Indeed! I saw the Prince s appointment to 
 the Embassy in the papers. I shall run in at once 
 to see you. Perhaps, as I am leaving so soon, I 
 can manage this afternoon if you are to be at 
 home." 
 
 "Why, yes, certainly, I think so." She was 
 thinking of her the intime, but tried to be cordial. 
 
 True to her promise, Mrs. Stuart "ran in" at 
 five o clock. It was a cardinal article in her creed 
 never to miss an opportunity to enlarge her ac 
 quaintance list. If one made mistakes one could 
 always drop people, which was much easier than 
 taking them on. 
 
 Helen had gone out that morning with the 
 Princess in search of something to read. At the 
 door of the bookshop in the Rue du Rivoli Tatia 
 had cautioned her as a measure of prudence to 
 get something in English, and she had returned 
 with a volume which a well-informed clerk assured 
 her was a very brilliant book everybody was 
 reading. Tatia, secure in her belief of the innocu- 
 ousness of the English language, dropped her at 
 the hotel to continue on her own business the 
 furnishing of the new apartment in the Avenue 
 Montaigne and Helen had devoted the morn 
 ing to the brilliant book everybody was reading/ 
 
 It differed very materially from those which 
 
 154 
 
HELEN 
 
 adorned the shelves in the Villa Fontana, or 
 which occupied the late evening hours when Mrs. 
 Lee s tired eyes laid upon Helen the duty of fin 
 ishing a chapter. From prevailing modern stand 
 points her education had been lamentably neg 
 lected. She could not have passed the entrance 
 examinations of any of the institutions for her 
 sex in her native land, and at the age when their 
 graduates, clad in appropriate attire, were pro 
 nounced ready to grapple with the world, she was 
 ignorant of the formidable vocabulary of the 
 typical curriculum. On the other hand, she and 
 Jack had acquired at first hand that indispensable 
 accomplishment of language, so rare in the land 
 of her birth, an accomplishment which had opened 
 to her the stores of information on the Villa Fon- 
 tana s bookshelves and the avenues of conversa 
 tion in its polyglot society. The rigid exclusion 
 from the former of frivolous literature had limited 
 her range of vision, and Mrs. Lee s prudent selec 
 tion of the sources from which her teachers had 
 drawn her exercises had no.t opened the doors 
 of frivolity. She and Jack had explored the upper 
 shelves of the bookcase, only to find the relics of 
 their grandmother s pre-continental life gathering 
 the dust beyond the reach of the housemaid. It 
 was due to these stray relics that Jack had stood 
 on the bridge with Horatius, sailed the wine- col 
 ored sea with Ulysses, and trembled under the 
 counterpane as Helen read of Roderick Dhu s com- 
 
 155 
 
HELEN 
 
 bat with Fitz- James in the Scottish Highlands. 
 Most of the "Household Book of Poetry" they 
 knew by heart. Even an encyclopaedia of the early 
 seventies had been carefully ransacked for possi 
 ble entertainment. None of these old-fashioned 
 outlooks upon life had afforded the perspective 
 of the brilliant book everybody was reading. It 
 possessed a style and facility of expression foreign 
 to what Mrs. Lee called standards/ and it dealt 
 with people rich in personality/ as a quotation 
 from a critical review on the cover observed. The 
 fluent style had held her attention in spite of the 
 fact that she liked none of the people. It must be 
 that such people had once existed. They all bore 
 the stamp of reality. Reality entitled them to no 
 hearing in either life or literature, but the brilliant 
 style carried them in on its wave where life would 
 have left them hopelessly stranded. So she read 
 on, revolted at all their sinuous glidings, their 
 matings and mis-matings, their desperate striv 
 ings for bubbles, through the merciless analysis 
 of emotions which had dropped the last garments 
 of privacy, solely to see where all this flutter of 
 talk and motive would end. 
 
 Having been thus driven by sheer curiosity to 
 the bitter end, she fled to Jack and fresh air for 
 moral rehabilitation, enlisting him in the raid on 
 Celestin s for something worthy of her tea. It 
 was such a joy to be able to carry out little pro 
 jects of this kind without consulting any one, to 
 
 156 
 
HELEN 
 
 treat Jack! Big projects she had none. Uncle 
 Hector s money was literally a magic carpet, a 
 fairy wand. She had risked no far flights as yet 
 on the carpet, and the wand she handled timidly, 
 as a fairy wand ought to be handled, not as a 
 sceptre. It was Tatia who had insisted upon the 
 maid. She had not thought of it, nor of the sable 
 furs. But she accepted both, and the penny tarts 
 she was going to Celestin s for, with equal hospi 
 tality toward a world which Uncle Hector s gold 
 had changed from a cold unknown to an inviting 
 friend. 
 
 At Celestin s the bitter taste came back with 
 Mrs. Stuart. Hitherto her experience with dis 
 agreeable people had been confined to that horrid 
 Ambassador with the thick lips and scrutinizing 
 eyes, to dapper Monsieur Hermite and the queer 
 visitors with Baedekers who peered over the rail 
 ing at the Roman road and cried, My! think of 
 it ! They had repelled or bored or amused her in 
 turn. Mrs. Stuart made her uneasy, and while 
 dressing for the afternoon she took refuge with 
 the real people who were coming to tea. 
 
 There was Dimitri. She was fond of Dimitri. 
 He was not very sociable, but he never put her on 
 the defensive. One trusted Dimitri, just as one 
 trusted all the inanimate things about one not to 
 misbehave. He was never trying, like the men in 
 the book, to bore in behind one s personality. 
 
 And Monsieur de Trecourt how utterly ridic- 
 
 157 
 
HELEN 
 
 ulous he had been in planning that dinner! He had 
 almost made her believe everything he said. Most 
 of the people in the brilliant book were always 
 doubtful of what the others said. There was no 
 doubt whatever about Monsieur de Trecourt. He 
 was a book pleasant to read, for she admitted 
 that she liked Monsieur de Trecourt, while de 
 ploring that rash abandonment of her violets. 
 One could pardon any one who was so naively sin 
 cere in his enterprise. The men in the book were 
 all working like moles, by insidious siege ap 
 proaches. She did not put this in so many words, 
 or concede half as much as the episode of the 
 violets had. But if the limousine had to be taken, 
 she infinitely preferred to have it taken by storm 
 than by stealth. It was simply impossible to say 
 4 no to him ! that is, it had been in the 
 future 
 
 Then there was Tatia, as frivolous as any of 
 them but oh, so much more ! so honest and 
 true! She was sure of Tatia. It hurt her when 
 any one called Tatia ugly. To be sure, if one 
 stopped to think, she was well, unusual, not 
 plain, not common plainness, but the kind that 
 guarantees. Tatia was certainly fond of trivial 
 and frivolous things, in a regal sort of way, as 
 queens wear ermine. They were not the end and 
 all of striving. Did Tatia have any end, except to 
 give happiness? She very much doubted it. 
 
 And Mr. Fearing how dear he had been 
 
 158 
 
HELEN 
 
 about Jack! In the distant future she was in 
 tending to lean upon Jack, when he had grown up 
 to be a man. As yet his overlordship was only a 
 figment, and meantime she had leaned upon her 
 grandmother, as one leans on any physical sup 
 port devoid of human sympathy. Now she was 
 free, not leaning upon any one. If ever it should 
 happen to her to really need any one to depend 
 upon, it would be Mr. Fearing. 
 
 She came at last to Madame de Chavigny, and 
 the blood grew hot in sheer happiness at the re 
 membrance of her soft curls and encircling arms. 
 
 "You were not a bit frightened, were you, 
 grandmamma? Peter is so very careful/* said 
 Helen, hovering over the tea-table. 
 
 "No, dear. But what changes!" Turning to 
 the Princess, "not a chair on the Avenue!" 
 
 "You don t mean to say you have n t been, up 
 the Avenue since the chairs disappeared!" ex 
 claimed Mrs. Stuart in astonishment. "Fancy! 
 Why, I have to go up the Champs Ely sees to see 
 my friends." 
 
 "Our friends reside in different quarters, per 
 haps," said the old lady politely. 
 
 "Oh, no," averred Mrs. Stuart, " I have friends 
 all over." 
 
 "You are very fortunate." 
 
 "You think so?" she smiled, with a lift of 
 the eyebrows conveying embarrassment of riches. 
 
 159 
 
HELEN 
 
 "When one adds all one s own to one s husband s, 
 it s almost more than one can manage." 
 
 Appalled by this vista into Mrs. Stuart s two 
 worlds, Madame de Chavigny reverted to the 
 motor. 
 
 "It certainly is a very quick way of getting 
 about. It quite took my breath away." 
 
 "We shall have to talk that matter over with 
 Mr. Fearing," said the Princess. 
 
 "If you succeed in making Mr. Fearing talk 
 about anything," chimed in Mrs. Stuart, deter 
 mined not to be left out of the conversation, "you 
 have my congratulations. My husband wrote me 
 he had fairly to dig the news out of him." 
 
 "News, what news?" enquired the Princess. 
 
 "About this dear child" glancing affection 
 ately at Helen. "Such things can t be kept a 
 secret forever, can they?" 
 
 "It s rather a pity, isn t it? "said Tatia in 
 scrutably. 
 
 "Mr. Fearing seemed to think so. He s much 
 of a secret himself, so like a machine machines 
 are useful, but so uncommunicative." 
 
 The Princess laughed, with the suspicious frank 
 ness which characterized her when unduly amused. 
 
 The door opened and Monsieur de Trecourt 
 came in. He went straight to Madame de Cha 
 vigny, kissing her on both cheeks, bowed to the 
 Princess and Helen, and sat down beside Mrs. 
 Stuart. No one presented him, but he entered 
 
 160 
 
HELEN 
 
 affably into conversation with that lady as if she, 
 too, belonged there and such a formality was of 
 no importance.. 
 
 "Give Jean a cup of tea, dear," said Madame 
 de Chavigny, laying a hand on Helen s arm. " He 
 is too timid to ask for it." 
 
 On the far side of the circle about the tea-table, 
 very discreet and quite absorbed in his compan 
 ion, he did not suggest in the remotest degree her 
 vivacious escort of the limousine. 
 
 "Why, Alexis!" cried the Princess, rising to 
 greet with both hands a tall, thin man with a Van 
 dyke beard who came in with Dimitri. "What a 
 surprise! My cousin Saranow " 
 
 "Oh, Madame de Chavigny and I are old 
 friends," he smiled, lifting the extended hand to 
 his lips. "We have plotted together these many 
 years in the silence of the Rue du Bac. What 
 magic has Tatiana discovered to induce you to 
 cross the Seine? Ah, yes, I understand" fol 
 lowing her eyes to Helen "The source of all 
 our follies and blessings. Why, mademoiselle, 
 will you not exert a little of your power on my 
 cousin? I have offered her a suite in the Em 
 bassy, and she refuses." 
 
 "What I refuse you know very well, Alexis," 
 said the Princess pointedly. 
 
 "What is it I know so well, Tatia dear?" said 
 her cousin, removing his gloves deliberately. 
 "Tell us." 
 
 161 
 
HELEN 
 
 "To surrender my liberty, or to encroach upon 
 yours." 
 
 He nodded gravely. 
 
 Mrs. Stuart, out of touch with what seemed a 
 family gathering, was waiting anxiously for some 
 stray end of conversation to rescue her from 
 oblivion. Happily, she caught sight of the bril 
 liant book on the table. 
 
 "Have you read this charming book?" she 
 asked, appropriating the Ambassador. 
 
 "I have tried to," said Monsieur Saranow, 
 taking up the book and examining the title. 
 
 "Don t you read English easily? You cer 
 tainly speak it well. It s really quite wonderful 
 how you foreigners pick up languages." 
 
 Monsieur Saranow smiled. "You have hit 
 upon what astonishes me, and I confess bores me 
 in this book. I ask myself why Americans are so 
 interested in the things by which they differ from 
 
 us." 
 
 "Well, we are different. You can t help seeing 
 that." 
 
 "Oh, no, madame. I admit that unreservedly. 
 You are the novelty of the century." 
 
 "Are n t you interested in novelties?" 
 
 "They do little else than invent them for you 
 here in Paris. It is one of the resources of the 
 budget." 
 
 "I think the way he or is it she? I ve for 
 gotten who the author is describes the differ- 
 
 162 
 
HELEN 
 
 ence between foreign and American husbands, and 
 the points of our women good and bad, you 
 know, is perfectly killing." 
 
 "It must be," said Monsieur Saranow reflec 
 tively, "that in your American atmosphere there 
 is something that tends to comparisons. I have 
 observed that even the Academician who goes to 
 America immediately becomes concerned about 
 himself." 
 
 "Most of us are; that s quite natural." 
 
 "With this difference, that we began here in 
 Europe so long ago to take note of ourselves that 
 we have become quite accustomed to ourselves 
 and to each other." 
 
 "You mean you are perfectly self-satisfied, 
 then," she hastened to say, conscious of scoring a 
 point. 
 
 "I am afraid so. It is very stupid of us. We 
 are an old race, bordering on equilibrium, that is, 
 restfulness you would perhaps say ennui." 
 
 " Dear me, no! Why, I came to Paris to escape 
 
 ennui." 
 
 "And you succeed In the Rue de la Paix and the 
 Boulevards?" enquired Monsieur Saranow im 
 passively. 
 
 "That s where we are most of the time, to be 
 sure, because most of the things we came for are 
 there. But there are other places, the Bois and 
 
 "The museums," interjected the Princess, fas 
 cinated by the thin, silvery voice of her visitor. 
 
 163 
 
HELEN 
 
 Mrs. Stuart gave the intruder a grateful wel 
 come. She had gotten perilously near the thin 
 edge of her theme and was averse to conversa 
 tional eddies which diverted her from the main 
 channel. 
 
 " I was just going to say the museums, Princess. 
 Is there anything particularly new in them? I 
 leave them to my husband mostly he s an ar 
 tist, and more interested in dilapidated anatomies 
 than I am. I must say I prefer all-round perfec 
 tion both arms, and faces with noses. But I 
 really must be going." She began to fasten the 
 furs about her neck, vaguely conscious of a chill 
 in the atmosphere. " I don t suppose any of you 
 people will be in Egypt this winter. I ve taken 
 a dahabiyeh and should be delighted" Her 
 small head under its toque turned birdlike to the 
 Ambassador. 
 
 "Oh, Madame, we are so proud to have per 
 suaded the Countess to cross the Seine but 
 Egypt!" He threw up his hands despairingly. 
 " Egypt is such a long way from the Rue du Bac! 
 We are dull people." 
 
 "It s only sixty hours. If you are dull at the 
 Embassy, Monsieur Saranow, why don t you get 
 a bright young American girl to pour tea for 
 you?" 
 
 It was not uncommon when tea was served in 
 Mr. Stuart s studio to talk over departing visi 
 tors. It would have been mortifying to Madge to 
 
 164 
 
HELEN 
 
 know that with her departure she dropped out of 
 the conversation. She regretted that departure 
 keenly in crossing the lobby, where she found her 
 self face to face with Fearing. There was no mis 
 taking her pleasure as she held out her hand. 
 
 "How nice! Jim said you were here." 
 
 "He said I was coming," Fearing corrected. 
 
 "It s all the same. Why have n t you been to 
 see me?" 
 
 "Give me time to breathe. I am just off the 
 train." 
 
 She snuggled her muff close up under the chin, 
 shooting over it an informing glance. 
 
 "And the first thought, of course, is the new 
 acquisition." 
 
 "Acquisition?" 
 
 "Oh, you need n t pretend. Jim wrote me all 
 about it. I won t keep you now, but run in to 
 night and tell me all about it. I m alone. By the 
 way, Jim says he sold Colombo. He said you told 
 him to." 
 
 "Did I?" 
 
 "Good Heavens! He said you did." 
 
 "Well, he has, if I told him to." 
 
 She called back to him at the door of the lift: 
 "Don t forget I shall expect you." 
 
XVII 
 
 IN the movement incident to Mrs. Stuart s exit 
 Monsieur de Tr6court went over beside Helen, 
 pushing his empty cup on the edge of the table. 
 
 "What, another! 1 
 
 "If you please, mademoiselle." 
 
 He began to speak in a most impersonal way 
 had she not so ordered? passing from her drive 
 in the Bois to the advantages of travel and other 
 general topics with a subdued vivacity she knew 
 was feigned. Through the murmur of conversa 
 tion about her she had caught stray fragments of 
 his talk with Mrs. Stuart, none of which bore the 
 hall-marks of her light-hearted neighbor of the pre 
 vious evening. What had she done? What had 
 happened? Or was he simply mercurial? No one 
 else appeared to notice what she did, and she put 
 the thought aside. 
 
 He had rambled off into a long description of a 
 new device for aerial photography which she did 
 not in the least comprehend. The technical de 
 scription was almost an affront. She tried to fol 
 low it as he sketched a skeleton design with cheese 
 straws and teaspoons on the tray-cloth. She felt 
 herself gradually growing hot with complete in 
 difference for aerial photography and indignation 
 at herself for the indifference. Why should n t she 
 
 1 66 
 
HELEN 
 
 be interested in anything so wonderful ! Absorbed 
 in his explanation, he was paying her no attention, 
 while the spoons and straws were assuming a fear 
 ful complexity. She finally gave up watching 
 them, to watch his hands very slim hands with 
 long, tapering fingers and pink nails nice hands, 
 she thought. Bending over his task, a fringe of 
 brown hair got in the line of her vision. It did not 
 matter. She had lost all understanding long since. 
 
 "How do you feel when you are flying, Mon 
 sieur de Tr6court?" 
 
 "When I am flying, mademoiselle?" His voice 
 had the old thrill in it. " It cannot be described. 
 It is too wonderful. One wishes never to come 
 down, to stay up there forever. Then, you ob 
 serve, by pressing this lever " 
 
 Her voice dropped to a whisper. She could bear 
 it no longer. "What is troubling you, Monsieur 
 deTrecourt?" 
 
 "Helene," called Madame de Chavigny, tap 
 ping on the table with her cane, "you and Jack 
 are to take me home. What castles are you build 
 ing over there?" 
 
 "I never can learn to call her Helene," put in 
 Jack opportunely. 
 
 "You need not try to, dear. She shall keep a 
 name for each country." 
 
 Helen was already tying the ribbons of the 
 heavy manteau which Mrs. Stuart had pro 
 nounced a model of the last century. 
 
 167 
 
HELEN 
 
 "Do you come with us, Jean?" said the old 
 lady. " Is there room for him?" 
 
 "Plenty," said Jack. "I can sit with Peter." 
 
 "Tatia," said Dimitri when they had gone, 
 "show Alexis your letter to Coulomb." 
 
 "Why?" she asked in surprise. 
 
 He nodded in Alexis s direction. "You told me 
 to reflect, and I have reflected." 
 
 " I had not thought of that," she said soberly. 
 
 She went to the writing-desk, unearthing the 
 letter from a mass of papers in her portfolio. 
 
 "What is this letter? " asked Alexis. "A letter 
 to Coulomb? Show it to me." 
 
 He read it through carefully, twisted it over 
 between his fingers, then read it again, the skin 
 wrinkling over the straight grey eyebrows on the 
 high forehead. 
 
 " I do not ask why you write this letter, cousin, 
 inasmuch as you do not take Monsieur Cou 
 lomb into your confidence. But it is inadmis 
 sible." 
 
 The Princess shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 "You have your sympathies. I have my scru 
 ples. You will not live with me. Very well. But 
 you belong to my official household, and we do 
 not meddle with the domestic affairs of France 
 on paper. Talk to Coulomb, Tatiana," he said, 
 handing her the letter with his fine smile, "dis 
 creetly." 
 
 168 
 
HELEN 
 
 Tatia offered no reply. She knew that when her 
 cousin closed a door there was no opening it. He 
 always closed it with courtesy, and an equally 
 flawless finality. The smile irritated her more 
 than the refusal. Tall, gaunt, impeccably dressed, 
 he was the modern counterpart of the mediaeval 
 knight in chain armor. She left him abruptly 
 with Dimitri and went to her own room. 
 
 Some one was moving about in the adjoining 
 one Helen s. She listened intently for a mo 
 ment till satisfied that it was not the maid, then 
 threw open the door. 
 
 "You did n t go with your grandmother?" 
 
 "No, Monsieur de Tr6court did." 
 
 "Oh!" flinging herself into a chair, her percep 
 tions on edge. "The apartment will be ready 
 next Monday," she said, resorting to the cigarette 
 case. 
 
 "That will be nice." 
 
 "Very. Alexis has engaged a chef for us." 
 
 "I thought ambassadors were above such 
 things." 
 
 "Not Alexis. Next to the Ambassador the chef 
 is the most important member of the staff." 
 
 "Is he?" 
 
 The Princess watched her through the curling 
 smoke. 
 
 "Helen, you are beginning to miss Jack." 
 
 " I think that must be it." 
 
 "It I what sit?" 
 
 169 
 
HELEN 
 
 "You know Jack and I " She stopped. The 
 long vista of electric lights in the Avenue flared 
 up as by magic, and at the same instant came 
 another illumination. She dropped the curtain, 
 shutting both from sight. 
 
 "That s one thing you have n t got to worry 
 about, my dear. When Fearing takes hold of any 
 thing " 
 
 " I am not worrying. I could not ask more for 
 Jack." 
 
 The Princess turned the tiny watch on her 
 wrist face upward. 
 
 "Suppose we dine upstairs to-night." ("I 
 thought so!" she said to herself.) "I ll give the 
 order now." 
 
 Alexis had gone when she reentered the drawing 
 room. She was decidedly upset. She was as 
 nearly vexed as was possible with Dimitri for 
 asking her to show her letter to Alexis. She was 
 thoroughly vexed with Alexis for his reception of 
 it, and she was still more vexed with herself for 
 her rash promise to Trecourt. 
 
 "You are trying not to say, You see I was 
 right, " she said to Dimitri, "but you look it. I 
 ought to have posted that letter without consult 
 ing either of you." 
 
 "That would have been another mistake, Ta- 
 tia." 
 
 In the brief ensuing silence Tatia jumped a wide 
 chasm. " I am perfectly sure she cares for him." 
 
 170 
 
HELEN 
 
 "And Trecourt he also has the passion, I 
 suppose," said Dimitri good-naturedly. 
 
 "A mole could see that." 
 
 Not expecting so corroborative a reply, Dimi 
 tri was silent. 
 
 "We are not all tortoises," she went on irri 
 tably. "You must n t judge Helen from yourself. 
 Think of H61ene. You really know very little 
 about women, Dimitri." 
 
 He looked at her in astonishment. Till now he 
 certainly thought he knew Tatia. 
 
 "We both agree about Helen at least," he said 
 pleasantly. "She s the salt of the earth." 
 
 " Yes ; that s the trouble. We are going to dine 
 here to-night." 
 
 She went to the electric bell. While listening 
 to the dinner order, he endeavored to solve the 
 enigma of Tatia s answer. 
 
XVIII 
 
 FEARING stood inside the door of his room for a 
 moment before pressing the electric button. He 
 was annoyed at Stuart for his indiscretions, what 
 ever they were, and he was angry with himself for 
 giving any ground for them. Both Stuart and his 
 wife had received him with a cordiality they had 
 never accorded him before. He knew well enough 
 to what this increase of importance was due. It 
 was a species of flattery which had not yet ceased 
 to amuse him - the accolade of wealth. 
 
 When the light came in answer to his pressure 
 he saw his luggage had already been put in place 
 and that the post was on the table. Conspicuous 
 among the letters was a long, thick envelope 
 which he recognized at once the syndicate plan 
 for the Argentine loan. The temptation to make 
 it serve as an excuse for not accepting Madge s 
 invitation came instantly, and he sat down and 
 began a note. Halfway down the page he stopped, 
 tore the sheet in two, and dropped it in the wicker 
 basket beneath the desk. That would be running 
 away simply because running away was the less 
 disagreeable alternative. 
 
 While dressing for dinner a note came from 
 Mrs. Stuart saying she had forgotten friends 
 were coming to take her to the theatre people 
 
 172 
 
HELEN 
 
 she thought he knew the names followed. Per 
 haps he would drop in for supper afterwards in 
 the restaurant. He felt relieved, which annoyed 
 him the more. Why on earth should he be averse 
 to facing that fussy little woman ! Better to put a 
 stop to her activities while she was harmless, and 
 have it over at once. 
 
 He found her in the crowded lounge, awaiting 
 her friends. 
 
 " It was awfully stupid of me," she said. " I com 
 pletely forgot. Luckily my maid has a memory. 
 I m a guest, else I should insist on carrying you 
 off. Do sit down just a moment. I m dying to 
 hear the New York news. What brought you 
 over? The Chavigny affair, I suppose." 
 
 "Do you call death an affair over here?" 
 
 "Poor Chavigny!" She smiled up at him be 
 nevolently. "Who ever thought of his leaving 
 such a lot of money! He did, did n t he?" 
 
 " I believe so," said Fearing, edging a little out 
 of the swaying crowd. 
 
 "Do sit down; you ll be swept away if you 
 don t. Believe so! Jim says you are his exec 
 utor." 
 
 " I am, but I did n t know you had an interest 
 in his estate." 
 
 "Don t be horrid. One is always interested in 
 romances. You know I saw the Lee children in 
 Mentone at their grandmother s when they were 
 tots without a penny. You must concede there s 
 
 173 
 
HELEN 
 
 something romantic when the fabled rich uncle 
 turns up in real life." 
 
 "I had n t thought of it in that light. Money 
 usually goes to the next of kin." 
 
 "How prosaic you are! You know I had n t 
 seen them since that time in Men tone till to 
 day. We met by accident at Clestin s. The 
 boy s a dear. I recognized the girl from her re 
 semblance to her mother but she s not as pretty. 
 What do you think of her?" 
 
 " I like her immensely don t you?" 
 
 The admission was too candid and all-embra 
 cing to be enlightening. 
 
 "She s no French toy. She s got a will of her 
 own I could see that." 
 
 "A good thing to have." Fearing s eyes wan 
 dered off over the throng gathering for dinner, a 
 confused medley of bare shoulders, jewels, and 
 feathers. "Jim says you are on the way to 
 Egypt." 
 
 "Oh, come ! You can t put me off like that. Be 
 good, now, and gratify legitimate curiosity. I 
 want to know what you are going to do with your 
 pretty ward." 
 
 "Bless me!" he laughed; "she s not my ward. 
 She s of age." 
 
 "She does n t look it." 
 
 " That s another point in her favor," said Fear 
 ing, rescuing her handkerchief from under the 
 passing feet. 
 
 174 
 
HELEN 
 
 "Thanks. She asked me to tea this afternoon 
 at the Princess Ghica s. The old Countess was 
 there wonderfully preserved old lady the 
 Ambassador, and a young man who bored me to 
 death. Then she s not going to America with her 
 brother? I thought from what Jim said " 
 
 Fearing drew a long sigh and stood up. "Jim 
 has the artist s imagination. You must n t let 
 him make it too hard for me to be polite." 
 
 Her eyes blazed. "You never were less so in 
 your life," she flung at him, struggling with her 
 wrath. 
 
 He laughed now in earnest. " I will make any 
 amends you impose except inventing out of my 
 ignorance. I am off for home two weeks from to 
 day. While you are basking in the Nile sun you 
 can think of me, if you choose to think of me at 
 all, as sitting at a desk in Broad Street envying 
 no, I won t say that congratulating people who 
 can go and do where and what they please." 
 
 "That s precisely what you do yourself no 
 one more so." 
 
 "Yes, to a degree. Here come your friends." 
 
 To a degree! Indignation prevented her from 
 finding just the right retort and the approach of 
 her friends left her no time to search for it. He 
 was plainly bored. The consciousness that he was 
 fooling her completed her discomfiture. Two can 
 play at that game, David Fearing! she thought 
 and forced a parting smile. 
 
 175 
 
HELEN 
 
 He noticed that she did not renew her invita 
 tion to supper. 
 
 He sent his card up the next morning to the 
 Princess Ghica, and word came down that Miss 
 Lee would be glad to see him. She was at the 
 breakfast table when he came in. 
 
 "Tatia s not visible yet," she explained, giving 
 him her hand. "Jack and I keep to our old hab 
 its. I am glad you are here. I wanted very much 
 to see you." 
 
 He thought he noticed a change in her. What 
 it was exactly he could not tell nothing out 
 ward, like dress, certainly. Galatea was all he 
 could think of. 
 
 " It seems such a long time since I left you 
 at the villa gate the last time. Did you think 
 I was very mercenary?" 
 
 "No. You were quite within your rights. I 
 suppose you want to know now definitely what 
 they are." 
 
 The old directness did not escape her. It was 
 what she wanted. 
 
 "Yes, I do. I want to know exactly where I 
 stand before I take another step. You may dis 
 appear to-morrow as you did at Nice, and then 
 I should be in despair." 
 
 " I am never beyond the reach of a cable, and 
 I am here now to answer all your questions. Per 
 haps I have anticipated some of them in a memo 
 randum I wrote out last night." 
 
 176 
 
HELEN 
 
 Something like mirth in her eyes made him 
 stop. He was so dreadfully methodical ! 
 
 "Won t you tell me first, please, about Uncle 
 Hector?" 
 
 " I wish I could. I knew him so slightly that I 
 don t understand why he should have singled 
 me out as he did except that people who carry 
 burdens are always singled out for more." 
 
 She was tempted to say that she knew why. 
 "Then it is a burden." 
 
 "It s a responsibility, certainly." 
 
 "You mean the money not me." 
 
 " I ll try to distinguish between the two, if I 
 can." 
 
 Her face lighted. "But I don t wish you to! 
 You are the first and only friend I ever had 
 whom I can go to for advice, I mean. You don t 
 mind giving advice, do you?" 
 
 "Not when it is taken." 
 
 " I promise to listen, and I think I shall take it. 
 You know I have trusted you already with Jack." 
 
 She drew her chair closer, cleared a space on the 
 table and spread the memorandum on the cloth. 
 
 "That s my New York address," he said, in 
 dicating the first line with the butter-knife. 
 
 " I want the cable address, too," she said, look 
 ing up quickly. 
 
 " I hope there ll be no occasion for that. How 
 ever " He wrote it in between line one and line 
 two. 
 
 177 
 
HELEN 
 
 "I might," she said, watching him. 
 
 "Then this is the address of my Paris bankers 
 Murray Brothers I shall see them to-day 
 and have them send you a check-book. You know 
 how to make out a check?" 
 
 " I saw you make one out once. Have you for 
 gotten?" 
 
 "Of course, of course," he said hastily. 
 
 " I did n t know when I refused to give you 
 that louis that we were going to transact business 
 together." 
 
 "/did." 
 
 " I know you did, and you walked off with Jack 
 as if we were never to meet again. Go on, please, 
 I am interrupting." 
 
 " I have said here" pointing to line three 
 " I should leave a deposit for your account with 
 Murray Brothers before I go, and later on, be 
 ginning April first, and every quarter-day there 
 after " 
 
 "What do you mean by a quarter-day, Mr. 
 Fearing?" 
 
 He looked at her to see if she was serious, and 
 while somewhat in doubt concluded she was. 
 
 " Imean every three months, every quarter of 
 a year, the first days of January, April, July, and 
 October, I shall deposit your income to date with 
 them, subject to your draft and send you a 
 statement in full. You understand?" 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 178 
 
HELEN 
 
 "There s a personal letter of introduction in 
 that envelope to Mr. Murray. You can present 
 it at your leisure, or, what will be better, I will 
 take you there some day myself. Murray is a 
 Scotch gentleman who will be glad to be of any 
 service. You can place implicit reliance in him." 
 
 "What about the next line?" said Helen, point 
 ing to the blank space below. "You have n t said 
 yet what you are going to deposit on those quarter- 
 days." 
 
 "I can t do that at present. Furthermore, all 
 quarter-days are not alike." 
 
 "But is n t that the most important thing for 
 me to know?" 
 
 "Undoubtedly. I can tell you approximately 
 what your yearly income is likely to be not more, 
 to be on the safe side, than fifty thousand dollars." 
 
 The smile went out of her eyes. She leaned 
 back in her chair, staring at him incredulously. 
 
 " Do you mean to say I shall have two hundred 
 and fifty thousand francs all my own every year? " 
 
 "Yes, about that, more or less more prob 
 ably." 
 
 The tears started in her eyes. "And I had n t 
 even that louis I wanted to give you." 
 
 " No, Jack told me he doubted whether you had 
 one. I have a proposition to make about Jack," 
 he added, steering away from the threatening 
 tears; "I have a fortnight before sailing and I 
 thought of running off somewhere with the motor. 
 
 179 
 
HELEN 
 
 I may not have another chance soon. If you could 
 spare Jack, I could take him with me. We could 
 be getting better acquainted. You can think it 
 
 over." 
 
 "I don t need to." 
 
 "There s another thing that occurred to me," 
 he went on hurriedly. " If you want to keep Peter 
 he s a careful driver and won t run you up a 
 lot of bills " 
 
 She stopped him with a gesture and went to the 
 window. 
 
 " I will speak to Peter about it if you say so," 
 he said to her back. 
 
 Helen turned. " I m not used to so much kind 
 ness " She was too self-contained to give way 
 utterly, but the voice broke and she turned back 
 again. 
 
 The clock with the three Horatii on the mantel 
 ticked off the silence. The suffering was not all 
 on one side. 
 
 "Well," he said, rising, "that s all, I think." 
 
 "No, it s not all," she cried, facing him, "it s 
 only the beginning " 
 
 The door opened to the Princess Ghica. * What ! 
 back again!" Her glance took in the memoran 
 dum on the table, "and talking business!" 
 
 "Yes," said Fearing, "it s all settled." 
 
 The Princess turned to Helen. She was gone. 
 
 Sprawling on the rug that evening, Jack was 
 180 
 
HELEN 
 
 studying a large motor map while Helen was 
 taking down her hair. 
 
 "We are going to Chartres first that s only 
 thirty-seven kilometres because there s a ca 
 thedral there " his finger followed down the 
 map "then to Blois that s where that old 
 Guise was murdered you remember that in our 
 history, don t you?" 
 
 "Yes, Jack." 
 
 "And then " He broke away from the map 
 suddenly to follow the brush sliding back and 
 down along the shining hair. "Don t you wish 
 you were going with us!" 
 
 " It would be rather nice." 
 
 "Why don t you ask Mr. Fearing, Helen?" 
 
 "Oh, I think you will have a much better time 
 by yourselves." 
 
 " I suppose we d have to have a chaperon, and 
 that would spoil it. But it would be fun to have 
 you you are the only girl I d ask " this 
 majestically. 
 
 "Your acquaintance list is n t large enough to 
 make that much of a compliment, Jack." 
 
 "I mean it, anyway. I hate most girls. When 
 I grow up I d marry you if it were legal." 
 
 Helen laughed. " I hope you won t make your 
 offer from the floor on your stomach. That would 
 be impolite as well as illegal." 
 
 "I would n t make it on my knees. I d carry 
 you off like Lochinvar." 
 
 181 
 
HELEN 
 
 "Jack, you are ridiculous. * 
 
 " I m always ridiculous or horrid or something 
 like that," he retorted. "You don t want this 
 Temps do you?" 
 
 Helen glanced over her shoulder. "No, dear." 
 
 Jack began feeding the Temps to the fire. 
 "Hullo!" he cried, scanning the last remaining 
 page, "listen to this: Monsieur Jean de Trecourt 
 is named Attache to the Legation at Seoul. " 
 
 "Ah, that was the reason!" 
 
 Jack sat up. "Reason for what?" 
 
 "Nothing." 
 
 Jack yawned. "Well, I suppose I ve got to go 
 to bed. We are going to start at eight. We are 
 going to leave the limousine for you. Mr. Fear- 
 ing s hired an open car. I hope it won t rain." 
 
 He put his arms round her neck from behind 
 and buried his face in the flowing hair. 
 
 "You smell awfully good, Helen. And I meant 
 what I said about marrying you." 
 
 "Please, Jack, you are pulling my hair." 
 
 He bent her head back and kissed her on the 
 lips. "That s for calling me names," he laughed, 
 "and" repeating the operation "that s for 
 good-night." 
 
 When he had gone she picked up the mutilated 
 sheet of the Temps Jack had left on the rug. 
 
XIX 
 
 SITTING beside his godmother on the way to the 
 Rue du Bac Jean de Trecourt was quite another 
 person from the young man whose eloquence had 
 once won him a place in Fearing s limousine. He 
 had received from the Foreign Office that morning 
 his assignment to Corea, an announcement which 
 plunged him in despair. A few days before he 
 would have been enchanted at the prospect of 
 testing in person the mystery and glamour of the 
 East. The thought of exchanging Avrincourt for 
 Seoul would have set his heart beating and his 
 imagination on fire. Just at present it was diffi 
 cult to find more than monosyllables in answer 
 to Madame de Chavigny s flow of spirits. He had 
 not yet summoned the courage to inform her of 
 the designs of the Foreign Office, and high spirits 
 seemed singularly out of place. It was certainly 
 trying to listen to her praises of her granddaugh 
 ter, whose presence at that very moment was 
 haunting the spot where he was sitting. For 
 Monsieur de Trecourt was in that unreasonable 
 frame of mind which has earned for lovers the 
 reputation of blindness. Of all the conversation 
 at his godmother s dinner he could remember 
 only the severity with which it ended, and being 
 like all lovers keenly sensitive to rebuke, was 
 
 183 
 
HELEN 
 
 depressed beyond even the power of the antidote 
 in his breast pocket to relieve despondency. Ap 
 plying what he conscientiously prided himself was 
 the cold logic of reason to his affairs, he came to 
 the conclusion that they were hopeless. Was it 
 reasonable to suppose, simply because he had 
 been carried away by so much loveliness, that she 
 evidently not! His past assurance was pitiful. 
 His presumption had only amused her. All this 
 was a dream, not even a hope. Until the axe of 
 the Foreign Office fell that morning with such 
 amazing celerity the interest of the Princess 
 Ghica had given him courage. That rainbow of 
 promise had disappeared. Had he been so simple 
 as to imagine that the Princess had nothing but 
 Monsieur de Trecourt to think of ! However sin 
 cere she might have been, it was now too late. 
 
 Gradually, out of his despair, rose that bitter 
 pleasure of bruising his wound, of asserting him 
 self superior to pain by ministering to it. Clad 
 in this armor of superiority, he had kept his 
 appointment for tea at the Princess Ghica s. If 
 opportunity presented he would mention to her, 
 casually, that he was fortunate enough to be 
 ordered to the East. He was tired of the banal- 
 it6s of the Boulevards. Travel had always been 
 his great desire. 
 
 As for what he would say to mademoiselle 
 here his intentions became somewhat blurred. 
 Not that he had anything to dissemble. Having 
 
 184 
 
HELEN 
 
 recovered possession of himself he had nothing to 
 fear. 
 
 On the departure of Mrs. Stuart he had gone 
 over, as the merest politeness required, to ex 
 change a few words at the tea-table before taking 
 his leave. Fortunately the inspiration came to 
 him that aerial photography was an appropriate 
 topic. At one moment, when asked what were 
 the sensations of flight, he almost forgot that he 
 had renounced forever leaving the solid earth for 
 any flight whatever, and then, in the midst of his 
 technical description, she had lowered her voice 
 and eyes to utter those divine words 
 
 "Oh," he groaned, "why must you choose that 
 instant to go!" 
 
 "What are you saying?" asked his godmother. 
 "It is quite impossible in these motors to make 
 one s self heard." 
 
 "Yes, he is changing gears. But I think we are 
 here." 
 
 It was his habit when in Paris to make his home 
 with his godmother. He fared very badly that 
 evening in the game which always followed din 
 ner. Corea stared at him from every domino. 
 But he said nothing. In his present state of mind 
 it would have been impossible either to feign en 
 thusiasm or disguise despair. 
 
 When leaving for Avrincourt in the morning, 
 however, he said to Jacques: "Say to madame 
 that I omitted to tell her that I am about to go to 
 
 185 
 
HELEN 
 
 Corea " And Jacques bowed, smiling, having 
 the idea that Corea was some place or person in 
 the immediate neighborhood. 
 
 Under the archway, between the dealer in an 
 tiquities and the purveyor of delicatessen, still 
 brooding over his unhappy destiny, Jean stopped 
 short, his heart in his mouth. A limousine was 
 just drawing up to the curb. 
 
 To retreat was to enter a cul-de-sac, to be 
 caught on the landing before Jacques could open 
 the door. Should he acknowledge the perfidious 
 smile he foresaw on the face of the occupant of 
 the limousine and assist her with polite indiffer 
 ence to alight, or pass bravely on with a feigned 
 absorption in his own affairs? The dilemma did 
 not present itself. There was no smile of any 
 kind on the face of the person for whom Peter 
 was opening the door. She remained obstinately 
 seated, awaiting his coming. Nor could he affect 
 indifference to the objective world when that 
 person was saying: 
 
 "Come here, please, Monsieur de Trecourt. 
 I wish to speak with you. In what direction are 
 you going?" 
 
 "To Avrincourt the Lyons station, " he 
 stammered. 
 
 Peter stood at the door. 
 
 "Wait a moment, Peter. There are many 
 trains to Avrincourt, are there not?" 
 
 "Yes, mademoiselle, many." 
 186 
 
HELEN 
 
 "Then grandmamma can wait. We will go 
 first to the Bois, Peter. You agree, monsieur?" 
 
 " Oh, mademoiselle/ he murmured. 
 
 Not till they came out from the narrow street 
 was a word spoken. 
 
 "Monsieur de Trecourt, why did you not tell 
 me yesterday of your appointment?" 
 
 "Oh, mademoiselle," he burst forth, "can you 
 not see that I am miserable, that I " 
 
 "Hush! I know what you are about to say. 
 Reproach me if you will for what I have done, but 
 not for what I am doing." 
 
 Reproach you ! I , who from the first moment 
 
 "Stop, please every word you speak is a 
 reproach. I have done wrong I should not 
 have permitted" She turned her face to the 
 window, her lip quivering "you seemed to me 
 so frank, so ingenuous " 
 
 "So boyish!" he said bitterly; "I remember." 
 
 " Is that a fault? " she said, turning to him. " I 
 did not mean it so." The candor of her eyes 
 shielded her. "Listen to me, please. Yesterday 
 you hurt me you have the power to hurt me 
 I confess it. Why should you not have told me 
 that you were going to " 
 
 O misguided youth! that he should say, "Be 
 cause that was nothing to you." 
 
 "That may be true. Did you expect me to 
 believe that it was nothing to you?" 
 
 "It seems I am an open book." 
 
HELEN 
 
 "No, Monsieur de Trecourt, you are not an 
 open book; but last night, when I saw in the 
 Temps your appointment, I also saw how thought 
 less I had been " 
 
 "And you pitied me!" 
 
 " and I asked myself which is most loyal, to 
 make believe that I saw nothing, to let you go 
 away thinking ill of me, or to come to you frankly 
 and say, forgive me give me back my violets, 
 Monsieur de Trecourt, and let us start anew." 
 
 "To begin anew I must stop loving you." 
 
 Above the muff on her knees lay a little hand. 
 But he did not dream of taking it. His audacity 
 was of another and more compelling kind. 
 
 "Can we not go back to where you cease 
 telling me so? It was because I thought you were 
 not a boy that I dared speak to you. You ask of 
 me everything shall I ask nothing of you? 
 Not to go away hurt and despising me not to 
 treat me as if I were without feeling or compre 
 hension not to reject what I offer you to be 
 your friend. Is that nothing to you?" 
 
 There are those who in Monsieur de Tr6court s 
 place would have spurned so paltry an offer 
 perhaps, also, would have seized the little hand 
 on the muff and, risking all, lost all, for a moment 
 of possession. Perhaps he realized this. Perhaps 
 her appeal gave him courage; perhaps, as he per 
 suaded himself, he really loved her, and could not 
 so much as touch that little hand without its con- 
 
 188 
 
HELEN 
 
 sent; perhaps he recognized in her something in 
 finitely sweeter and finer than a gust of passion 
 could possess itself of; perhaps, too, in the soil of 
 her tenderness the germ of a hope which counselled 
 patience stirred to life. 
 
 "You know that is everything to me. I prom 
 ise you." 
 
 What, he did not say, and she did not ask. Did 
 either know? In the love of every man there is 
 something reminiscent of childhood obedience; 
 as in the love of every woman there is something 
 prophetic of motherhood sovereignty. 
 
 After all, it was no relief. It was a truce, not 
 peace, at best peace of mind, masquerading as 
 peace of heart, and yet a closer, atoning under 
 standing which made it possible to speak of lesser 
 things, converse as subdued as the winter day 
 and the bare allies of the wood, lapsing into silences 
 filled with a sense of community dearer and more 
 perilous than speech. 
 
 At the Lyons station she dropped a crumb of 
 comfort. "You must come and see us in the 
 Avenue Montaigne. We move this week. I am 
 really more interested in aerial photography than 
 you think." 
 
 When he had gone she lowered the window be 
 hind Peter, whose head was turned for orders. 
 
 "Are n t we somewhere near the Bois de Vin- 
 cennes, Peter? Do you think you could find your 
 way there?" 
 
 189 
 
HELEN 
 
 Peter thought he could. 
 
 She had set out that morning with the intention 
 of spending the day with her grandmother. Once 
 more she decided that her grandmother could wait. 
 She wanted to be alone a little while. She wanted 
 to understand why it was she was not unhappy. 
 There seemed to be good reason for being so. Not 
 withstanding the brave smile on Monsieur de 
 Trecourt s face as he disappeared in the stream 
 pouring into the station, she was sure she had 
 caused him unhappiness. It was not reasonable to 
 find pleasure in inflicting pain. Had she really 
 inflicted any? With some misgivings, but very 
 resolutely, she had steered her barque into trou 
 bled waters, and it had floated out upon a more 
 peaceful, a different sea, from what she expected. 
 Her whole effort had been to push him away. Just 
 now, instead of inspiring distrust or even caution, 
 he had drawn her to him. She was still firm in the 
 belief that she had acted from the honestest of 
 motives, straightforwardly but wisely? The re 
 sult was so different from what she had foreseen. 
 Pressing her foot firmly against the footrest, she 
 asked herself what it was exactly that she had 
 foreseen. Certainly not the plain statement that 
 he loved her. Something of that thought, to be 
 sure, had been the reason for doing what she had 
 done to put her little foot on the spark before 
 it became flame, to extinguish that spark by the 
 loyal confession of her own thoughtlessness, and 
 
 190 
 
HELEN 
 
 to keep him yes, to keep him as her friend. If 
 love had been in the background of her thought, 
 the word itself had not taken form there. She was 
 astonished now that it had been spoken. How 
 quietly and naturally it had slipped out into 
 speech! And it could never be ignored again. She 
 pressed the little foot against the bar, but the 
 word was there, more compelling in memory than 
 in speech the undying flame whose warmth stole 
 up to her heart and cheek. 
 
 " Peter, you may turn now the Rue du Bac." 
 
 She stopped on the quay for flowers. It was a 
 dull leaden day, but the flower-stalls never seemed 
 so lovely nor her grandmother so dear. 
 
 "Helene," said Madame de Chavigny, as she 
 came in, "have you heard the news? Our Jean 
 goes to Corea." 
 
 Our! her grandmother invariably spoke of him 
 in that way. It had never suggested partnership 
 before. 
 
 "Yes." She had not intended to mention her 
 drive, but she hated deception. "I met him just 
 now at the door and took him to the station." 
 
 "Then he told you." 
 
 "Yes." The necessity of saying something, 
 anything, urged her on. " It will be a wonderful 
 experience." 
 
 " Did he say so? Then he was pleased? " 
 
 "N-no not very we were speaking of 
 other things. We are moving into the new apart- 
 
 191 
 
HELEN 
 
 ment this week. It is lovely. You must come and 
 see it." 
 
 Madame de Chavigny watched the slender 
 fingers lifting the roses one by one from their box 
 to the vase, vainly endeavoring to see the averted 
 face. 
 
 Helen was silent. She hated evasion, too. 
 
XX 
 
 THE tall, spare figure of Monsieur Saranow was 
 a familiar one to early frequenters of the Bois 
 de Boulogne. Guardians of the peace who had 
 learned to recognize the iron-grey horse of the 
 Russian Ambassador stood at attention as he 
 passed, irrespective of the weather, on his morn 
 ing ride, arid paused to admire the soldierly form 
 of His Excellency after the salute had been ac 
 knowledged. 
 
 In the matter of return salutes Monsieur Sara 
 now was not invariably so fortunate as they. On 
 this particular winter morning he had raised his 
 hat to a charming face in a passing limousine, to 
 learn that preoccupation with a companion and 
 not the speed of the motor or the winter landscape 
 was the reason for a wasted civility. 
 
 The charming face hovered before His Excel 
 lency on the homeward ride, and smiled at him 
 later from among official papers on the desk in the 
 Chancellerie. His cousin, the Princess Ghica, had 
 not infrequently mentioned that face in her ex 
 uberant epistles. Tatia was given to exuberance, 
 and he had discounted her descriptions accord 
 ingly, In this instance he had been forced to ad 
 mit that she had not exaggerated. 
 
 He had not asked the reason for her letter to 
 
 193 
 
HELEN 
 
 Coulomb. The most ordinary astuteness, how 
 ever, could not fail to see a remote connection 
 between that letter and the young man who found 
 tea in Tatia s salon so diverting and the morning 
 air of the Bois so much to his liking. While sign 
 ing documents at the Chancellerie desk Monsieur 
 Saranow became obsessed by a sense of duty 
 the duty of doing something or seeing somebody. 
 When the last routine duty was finished, leaning 
 back in his leather armchair, he set this other, as 
 yet vague, duty on an imaginary pedestal, the 
 better to envisage it from every angle. Scraps of 
 forgotten information in his cousin s correspond 
 ence came to mind while thus occupied, from 
 which he gradually evolved another image which 
 he also set up beside that of duty the image of 
 a girl about twenty, living a secluded life with an 
 old woman who fared badly under his cousin s 
 pen, a girl upon whom a shower of gold had de 
 scended as on the mythical Danae, and who had 
 evidently inherited from overseas that microbe 
 of careless indifference for old-world proprieties 
 which was his present concern. 
 
 In the antiquity shop of the Rue du Bac there 
 existed a console on which his collector s eye had 
 long been fixed. It was a signed piece, with ad 
 mirable bronzes, worthy of a museum. But the 
 price was quite too high. Should he pay that old 
 rascal who had special prices for ambassadors 
 another visit, and incidentally take advantage 
 
 194 
 
HELEN 
 
 of his proximity to Madame de Chavigny s door 
 way to pay her one also? The old Countess was a 
 delightful causeuse. Over a biscuit and a glass of 
 sherry no, he would not trouble that dear old 
 lady or disturb the joy of her new possession. 
 
 There was that hot-headed godson of hers, and 
 there was Tatia. He dismissed them both. Mon 
 sieur de Trecourt was an exalte who might not 
 be amenable to discipline, and Tatia was such a 
 blunderer! 
 
 The face of duty on its pedestal softened, and 
 the charming face in the limousine appeared in 
 the mirror of the polished mahogany desk. It 
 was a disagreeable and thankless r61e, that of 
 busybody. After all, was it any business of his? 
 He would wait. 
 
 He waited till his cousin was established in the 
 new apartment of the Avenue Montaigne, where 
 he decided to go at the tea-hour to inspect its fur 
 nishings, about which he foresaw he would have 
 much to criticise. Not that Tatia s taste would 
 be at fault. That was the difficulty. Tatia never 
 maintained a proper balance between her tastes 
 and her resources, and Dimitri was too indulgent, 
 or lazy both ! 
 
 He arrived a little early, before Tatia was re 
 ceiving. Except in respect to royal or strictly offi 
 cial appointments, Tatia was irregular. He had 
 not counted upon this deliberately. It merely hap 
 pened that he advanced the clock as she retarded 
 
 195 
 
HELEN 
 
 it. In this way he gained nearly a half-hour. It 
 happened also that Mademoiselle received him. 
 This he might have foreseen, for she struck him 
 as a rather prompt and energetic person. At all 
 events, it was a piece of good fortune. 
 
 Looking over his cup at the young lady presid 
 ing at the tea-table with so naive a composure, 
 the parting recommendation of Mrs. Stuart oc 
 curred to him. He also said to himself that it 
 would be a pleasure to match his wits against 
 hers. But this would be to declare himself an 
 antagonist, a part he was not intending to play 
 and which might end in disaster. For he had 
 observed that with human beings, as with horses, 
 delicate nostrils like those the other side of the 
 samovar went usually with a dangerously spirited 
 disposition. 
 
 Was mademoiselle enjoying Paris? Immensely. 
 Did mademoiselle, whose French was so perfect, 
 perchance speak Russian? A little, a few words 
 caught from Tatia. 
 
 To be sure, but, he was bound to say, a poor 
 teacher who spoke her own language badly 
 otherwise an excellent person with an abnormally 
 developed heart, an organ more unruly than the 
 tongue. 
 
 Mademoiselle s cup paused on the way to the 
 lips. 
 
 Monsieur Saranow was a past- master of indirec 
 tion. Looking at that moment into the clear eyes 
 
 196 
 
HELEN 
 
 which held his own, he decided that indirection 
 would be a blunder. 
 
 Mademoiselle," he said in his confidential 
 manner, "will you permit me to commit an indis 
 cretion?" 
 
 "An indiscretion, Monsieur Saranow!" 
 
 The words had no sooner escaped him than he 
 began to regret them. But the issue was joined. 
 
 "Recently, while taking my morning exercise 
 in the Bois " 
 
 The small mouth tightened, then broke into a 
 smile. "I know what you are going to say; you 
 are going to accuse me of one." 
 f There was no trace of resentment in the voice. 
 The confusion he anticipated he was experiencing 
 himself. 
 
 "My dear child," he said, laying his hand on 
 hers, "have I accused you of anything! I was 
 only thinking that in a great city like this one, a 
 sort of cave of Dionysius, repeating every whis 
 per" 
 
 " Monsieur Saranow, you need not defend your 
 self. I absolve you beforehand. You are quite 
 right. I admit the indiscretion. In your turn I 
 ask you to admit that the reason for committing 
 it was right also." 
 
 "I am convinced of it." The frankness dis 
 armed him. "But," he persisted, for Duty stood 
 at his elbow, "in the exercise of rights a certain 
 perspective is necessary. No single right, for ex- 
 
 197 
 
HELEN 
 
 ample, stands by itself, being always so involved 
 with other rights that, to risk a paradox, what is 
 in itself absolutely right becomes at times rela 
 tively wrong." 
 
 He looked up, smiling confidently. 
 
 " I admit that also, and now that we have ac 
 knowledged our indiscretions and pardoned each 
 other" 
 
 "Oh, mademoiselle," he cried, throwing up his 
 hands, " I have made a mess of it!" 
 
 The smile deepened. " Did you expect me to be 
 angry? You see I am not. Ought I to be?" 
 
 "Heaven forbid!" he exclaimed. "Do not visit 
 such a penalty upon one who has yielded to the 
 detestable habit of giving advice." 
 
 "You confess, then, that I do not take it so 
 badly." 
 
 His shrewd eyes twinkled as he set down his 
 cup. " I am not sure whether it is you or I who 
 is giving it a little more hot water this time, 
 please, a cup of real Russian tea " 
 
 "Such as Tatia makes I know." And they 
 both laughed together. 
 
 "Ah, mademoiselle," he said, shaking his long 
 forefinger, "some day, when we are better ac 
 quainted, I shall give you advice of another 
 kind." 
 
 "Of what kind, Monsieur Saranow?" 
 
 "Not to treat too lightly the advances of one 
 who desires the privileges of friendship." 
 
 198 
 
HELEN 
 
 " I give you those privileges now, with this cup 
 of tea. Has it the right color?" 
 
 The door opened at last. Never before had 
 Monsieur Saranow been so glad to see his Cousin 
 Tatia. 
 
 "Letters from Jack, dear," she said to Helen, 
 with a nod for Alexis. "What do you think of it, 
 cousin?" 
 
 She swept the room with a critical eye. 
 "Excellent, excellent as if you had lived here 
 a century also, as if you intended to." 
 
 " Come and see." She led the way into the large 
 salon. "We are going to give a dinner on the 
 twentieth. Will you honor us?" 
 
 "The honor is mine. Who are your guests?" 
 
 "Thank you for answering before asking. Quite 
 large enough for a dance, is n t it." She stood 
 under the crystal lustre, surveying the room ap 
 provingly. "The music-room is there, the dining- 
 room beyond, and on this side, " drawing the 
 portieres, " Dimitri s den." 
 
 "Excellent, excellent," he repeated. "And 
 your guests, Tatia." 
 
 " Here they are " fumbling among the papers 
 on Dimitri s desk "see for yourself." 
 
 "It seems this den of Dimitri s is yours also." 
 
 "Naturally." 
 
 "I see here the name of Coulomb," he said, 
 scanning the list in his hand. "You are not writ 
 ing any more letters?" 
 
 199 
 
HELEN 
 
 She flashed him a look of indignation. 
 
 "But you have seen him." 
 
 "Yes, he has been here." 
 
 "I am not speaking of your eyes, my dear 
 cousin, but of your tongue." 
 
 "Not a word," she replied shortly. 
 
 "So then you have abandoned Monsieur de 
 Trecourt. Does it please you to enlighten me on 
 the subject of your interest in that gentleman, and 
 to tell me why he has fallen from grace?" 
 
 "You have not guessed?" 
 
 "It is less fatiguing to ask." 
 
 The Princess winced. Her usually confident 
 state of mind was perturbed. Trecourt s Corean 
 assignment had been a disagreeable surprise, and 
 of her cousin she stood as nearly in awe as was 
 possible for her in respect to any one. 
 
 "Since it is settled it does n t matter," she said 
 evasively. 
 
 "Ah, well, if it is settled, let us say no more 
 about it." 
 
 "Sit down, Alexis," pushing a chair toward him 
 and sinking into one herself; "I want to talk to 
 you. What do you think of her?" 
 
 "Of whom?" 
 
 "Helen." 
 
 "Of mademoiselle? How you jump about! 
 Charming." 
 
 " Is n t she." She paused to light her cigarette. 
 
 He was looking curiously at her over the tips 
 200 
 
HELEN 
 
 of his fingers, joined end to end. "Go on, Tatia. 
 I am listening." 
 
 "You know very well why I am interested in 
 Trecourt. The thought occurred to me the other 
 night at Madame de Chavigny s dinner. She was 
 sounding the praises of her godson the entire even 
 ing. I am confident it was her thought also. Be 
 sides, he pleased me. Was it a bad one? Helen is 
 twenty. On his side there is nothing to find fault 
 with. It was easy to see, too, that they pleased 
 each other. So, in a moment of" she made 
 a gesture signifying further explanation was un 
 necessary "I spoke to Trecourt" the ges 
 ture was repeated with greater emphasis "Oh, 
 guardedly not in so many words only that 
 I might, perhaps well you saw from my let 
 ter intercede for him." 
 
 "Having conceived this excellent idea, why do 
 you abandon it?" 
 
 "It is not for you to ask me that question, 
 Alexis, you who forbade me " 
 
 "Only to put your ideas on paper." 
 
 "But before I had the opportunity to speak he 
 is bundled off to Corea." 
 
 Alexis smiled. "You do not mean to tell me, 
 Tatia, that so simple an obstacle as a ministe 
 rial decree discouraged you!" Serious herself, his 
 bantering tone exasperated her. Or was he, per 
 chance, serious? "Women are so unreasonable," 
 he mused; "they wish to keep their children in 
 
 201 
 
HELEN 
 
 leading-strings to marry them off like blind 
 kittens whose eyes are not yet open to the world 
 in which they are to live." 
 
 She endured the ensuing silence till she could 
 bear it no longer. 
 
 "Why do you look at me in that way, Alexis?" 
 
 "I was thinking," he said slowly, "that I have 
 half a mind to confide to you an encounter which 
 I have just had with our young friend." 
 
 "Just now, with Helen!" she cried, alert at 
 once. She checked herself. It was never of any 
 use to hurry him. "You rarely confide anything 
 to me." 
 
 "You would have laughed, Tatia." 
 
 "Come, come, Alexis" losing patience 
 "I am laughing already." 
 
 " I undertook to offer her a little advice, a word 
 of caution a mere word after meeting our 
 young lovers one morning in the Bois." Tatia s 
 eyes were opening wide. "Youth is so imprudent. 
 I even thought of consulting you, Tatia." 
 
 "Even!" 
 
 "But in so delicate a matter " 
 
 "Delicate! Everybody knows with what deli 
 cacy you convey your opinions!" 
 
 "I did my best. I wrapped them up carefully 
 in a Greek legend, reminding her that the cave of 
 Dionysius is not altogether a fable. I was pre 
 pared for all contingencies, indignation, confusion, 
 penitence " 
 
 202 
 
HELEN 
 
 The Princess laughed her laugh of pure enjoy 
 ment. "You don t mean to say you offered to 
 pardon her!" 
 
 "Quite the contrary. She convinced me that it 
 was I who was in the wrong. Naturally it was I 
 who was pardoned. She is a very clever young 
 lady." 
 
 Tatia blazed up at once. "Clever is not the 
 word for Helen. She is too honest." 
 
 "If by honest you mean communicative at 
 all events, we parted good friends. But are we 
 not leaving her a long time alone with the sam 
 ovar?" 
 
 "She has her letters," replied Tatia, rising. 
 
 In the passage from Dimitri s den to the salon 
 she did some rapid thinking. Too honest, yes, and 
 too fearless! That Helen should run off every 
 afternoon to the Rue du Bac was natural enough. 
 No one could dispute the prerogatives of Madame 
 de Chavigny. But with Trecourt, alone, in the 
 Bois! Her habit, now that Jack was not here 
 to accompany her, of rushing about Paris in the 
 motor with truly American insouciance had al 
 ready aroused serious misgivings. Tatia disap 
 proved of it thoroughly, though she had not yet 
 ventured to interfere. To Helen s independence 
 of character there had been added that other in 
 dependence conferred by money. Insensibly she 
 had grown to feel that the Helen of to-day was 
 neither so approachable nor so amenable to dis- 
 
 203 
 
HELEN 
 
 cipline as the penniless dependent of the Villa 
 Fontana. But, after all, she, Tatia, was to a very 
 real degree responsible for her. Disapprobation 
 notwithstanding, she could but smile for her 
 intuitions were right! How she would laugh at 
 Dimitri ! But how perfectly ridiculous to set out 
 for Corea! What were these children thinking 
 of? To sacrifice the present for a career? With a 
 million in the pocket? What a nightmare! 
 
 "Children always take the future for granted," 
 she said, thinking aloud, "as if happiness were a 
 right. At our age, Alexis, we thank God for every 
 crumb from his table." 
 
 "You manage to pick up a good many crumbs, 
 Tatia. Will you accept one from me? Go with 
 me to Petersburg this summer?" 
 
 They were at the door of the salon. She 
 stopped, looking at him incredulously. 
 
 "And leave Dimitri? No, thanks." 
 
 "I am sorry. I must leave Dimitri in charge." 
 He took up his hat and gloves. "Au revoir, 
 mademoiselle. I shall not forget that friendship 
 implies obligations as well as privileges." To 
 Helen s smile he nodded enigmatically. At the 
 door he turned to his cousin : 
 
 "Think it over, Tatia. One can pay too dearly 
 even for Dimitri." 
 
XXI 
 
 JEAN DE TRECOURT S personality was one that 
 appealed to women, a compound of shyness and 
 daring shyness without fear and daring with 
 out coarseness. Gifted with a lively imagination, 
 the only avenue to the heart, it was this quality 
 which made him most at ease in the society of the 
 other sex. No one could accuse him of being a 
 ladies man in the sense of absorption in, or even 
 liking for, the accomplishments which distinguish 
 that monstrosity as repugnant as the Hermaph 
 rodite of the Greek sculptor. But his manhood 
 lacked the salt of self-conceit, the aggressive self- 
 confidence of pure masculinity. Quiet, thought 
 ful, modest among his fellows, he often suffered 
 misconception from men in the smoking-room 
 after dinner, where assertiveness contends with 
 merit the merit that waits the test of emer 
 gency before disclosing itself. Elsewhere he won 
 his way by the sure, unconscious instinct of feel 
 ing, the dominant trait of all winning personali 
 ties, by the warring qualities of submissiveness 
 and impetuosity which take the heart by storm 
 when bolder measures leave it cold. 
 
 He was therefore his mother s child rather than 
 his father s. The latter, imperious, wise in his 
 own conceit, with the perversity which seeks to 
 
 205 
 
HELEN 
 
 re-mould what it does not understand, had begun 
 in infancy the futile task of refashioning nature, 
 to trace the grooves in which this nature was to 
 run. Thus far Jean had not revolted. Once he 
 would have welcomed the freedom from paternal 
 domination offered by his Eastern assignment, as 
 he had welcomed its temporary eclipse during 
 the term of his military service. Just now a new 
 factor of control converted every spot but Paris 
 into the uttermost waste parts of the earth. Just 
 now he was struggling with those counter-currents 
 of fealty and desire which engender the torments 
 of love. 
 
 He knew well what reception his father would 
 give to the news of his assignment. He would 
 remind him that his own diplomatic career had 
 begun in Teheran, and dilate on the opportuni 
 ties afforded by a distant post, removed from the 
 intrigues of home politics, for laying the founda 
 tions for a distinguished future. He would forget 
 the years he had languished, forgotten, in that 
 distant post. All the musty wisdom of the old 
 diplomat in retirement would be his to profit by. 
 His mother would shed some tears, and dry them 
 busying herself over his outfit. 
 
 For all this he was prepared when returning 
 to Avrincourt on the day of his interview with 
 Helen. His father s notion of life was too simple 
 to be mistaken. Its first and last term was obe 
 dience. Discussion was out of the question. The 
 
 206 
 
HELEN 
 
 only alternative was flat rebellion. Listening to 
 the complacent congratulations which greeted 
 him, there came the vision of a small hand lying 
 on a muff. Ah, if that little hand were in his, he 
 would defy the world ! Was he responsible for the 
 thoughts which bubbled up from the twin springs 
 of misery and hope? 
 
 Fealty was uppermost when he presented him 
 self in the Avenue Montaigne on the evening of the 
 Princess s dinner; but a fealty disposed to search, 
 furtively, in the company of hope, for avenues of 
 escape, and which had to be held well in leash. 
 
 It was not without some hesitation that the 
 Princess had added his name to her dinner list. 
 There were times when Helen s demeanor almost 
 made her believe she was mistaken. Once she had 
 been on the verge of opening her heart in a burst 
 of confidence. But opening her heart to Helen 
 was really opening Helen s. She could not hon 
 estly say that Helen s manner was less affection 
 ate. She had always been frank, though not al 
 ways transparent or demonstrative. Sometimes 
 Tatia debated whether the change, if change there 
 was, was not the fiction of her own sensitive affec 
 tion. With all her tendency to plain speaking, 
 she had the gift of comprehension, of comprehend 
 ing that in Helen s equal but less impulsive frank 
 ness there were doors which only Helen could 
 open, which it would be sheer madness to force 
 under any pretence of affection or interest. 
 
 207 
 
HELEN 
 
 Discussing her dinner list one evening with 
 Dimitri, she appealed casually to Helen. There 
 was Monsieur de Trecourt, who she understood 
 was soon to leave Paris should she include him? 
 Helen s acquiescence was so completely indiffer 
 ent as to be disconcerting. Indifference was a 
 cloak which might conceal anything. She looked 
 over at the girl, absorbed in her book, and 
 Jean s name went on the list. Whatever else 
 Tatia was, she was not the burnt child which 
 dreads the fire. 
 
 The exactions of precedence admitting of no 
 elasticity in her seating arrangements, her choice 
 for Helen lay between the two ends of the table, 
 beside either the third secretary of the embassy or 
 Monsieur de Trecourt. Consulted as to her pref 
 erences, Helen said it did not matter. 
 
 "But I want you to have an agreeable com 
 panion, dear." 
 
 "I shall in either case." 
 
 "Toss up for it," suggested Dimitri. 
 
 "Very well," laughed Helen. 
 
 "Monsieur de Trecourt," she said, when he 
 offered his arm, "it was literally fate which des 
 tined you to take me to dinner again." 
 
 Before she could explain her meaning, "I 
 thought it was you," he whispered. 
 
 Once more she regretted her words, and once 
 more she laid the blame upon him. 
 
 208 
 
HELEN 
 
 "You are incorrigible you deserve a repri 
 mand." The reprimand was less severe than the 
 one she sought for. " I asked you to come to fin 
 ish your explanation of that device for aerial pho 
 tography. Have you forgotten?" 
 
 "No, mademoiselle, I have not forgotten, but 
 I beg of you to remember that in disobeying one 
 command I was obeying another." 
 
 " Do you think obedience consists in reminding 
 me of it?" she said coldly. 
 
 One topic they sedulously evaded Corea; 
 each giving the other the credit for avoiding what 
 neither dared to mention. But the truce was 
 broken by Jean s vivacious neighbor, who, before 
 the napkins were unfolded, exclaimed: 
 
 "So you are going to the Hermit Kingdom, 
 Monsieur de Trecourt. What luck!" 
 
 "Why do you say luck, madame?" asked Jean, 
 endeavoring to smile. 
 
 "Because you will have such interesting things 
 to tell us when you return. If there were a Ma 
 dame de Trecourt" she shrugged her pretty 
 bare shoulders " I would perhaps not say so, for 
 I confess there are regions more attractive to me. 
 But for a young man without encumbrances 
 surely there must be adventures there lions, 
 perhaps. Are there lions in Corea?" 
 
 "You turn me over very lightly to the wild 
 beasts, madame." 
 
 He was thinking meantime that if there were 
 209 
 
HELEN 
 
 to be adventures in Corea it might not be neces 
 sary to await his return to relate them. Then, at 
 the first opportunity, when the rising hum of 
 voices permitted, he ventured: 
 
 "May I write to you, mademoiselle of the 
 Corean lions?" 
 
 But the answer, if any, was caught in the cur 
 rents of conversation and swept away. 
 
 Thereafter the dinner dragged on for him 
 through its many courses, the personal note lost 
 in the general talk, till the ladies were escorted 
 back to the drawing-room and Dimitri s den 
 swallowed up the men. 
 
 Jean lingered. "You have not answered my 
 question, mademoiselle," he said, standing before 
 her. 
 
 She looked up from her seat with that little 
 quiver of the mouth he loved. 
 
 "Can you not wait till I have first written 
 you? " The light which flamed up in his eyes trans 
 figured him. "Please go, Monsieur de Trecourt. 
 Why do you make me say things which I regret 
 I hate you!" 
 
 The words came with the dazing force of a 
 blow. For a moment they conveyed no meaning. 
 Then the blood rushed back to his face and he 
 turned stifHy on his heel. 
 
 Subsequently in the smoking-room, he made 
 some desperate but futile efforts to escape. The 
 great Coulomb deigned to converse with him for 
 
 210 
 
HELEN 
 
 a flattering period. His Excellency Monsieur 
 Saranow even promised him letters which would 
 prove useful, for events were thickening in the 
 Orient. When at last he managed to slip away, 
 Tatia lay in wait for him. 
 
 "What a villainous luck you have, Monsieur 
 de Trecourt! Let us hope it will not be for 
 long." 
 
 He was at that moment near to despising all 
 women for their deceit. Groping about in his bit 
 terness for an answer worthy of such flippancy, 
 he hit upon one of her own. 
 
 "I remember, Princess, that you once told me 
 there were ladders which one must climb alone. 
 Profiting by your kind permission I ventured to 
 address mademoiselle on the subject and the 
 incident is closed." 
 
 His heels clicked together, and before she could 
 recover from her astonishment he had disap 
 peared. 
 
 The relief he experienced in making this un 
 premeditated disclosure was instantaneous. He 
 had accepted the fact, the incident, he repeated 
 to himself, was closed and the wound. He 
 had violated his promise, she had reminded him 
 of it brutally, and all was over. It was only be 
 cause he had hitherto refused to admit it that he 
 had suffered. 
 
 It was this convincing logic which enabled him 
 a moment later to search phlegmatically for a 
 
 211 
 
HELEN 
 
 modest cab among the limousines in the Avenue 
 Montaigne. 
 
 " I noticed in the Gazette that you are sending 
 our young friend Trecourt to Corea." 
 
 It was Alexis speaking to Coulomb. The defer 
 ence accorded to greatness had left the two tete-a- 
 tete on the deep divan of the smoking-room. 
 
 "Trecourt Trecourt," repeated the Minister, 
 knitting his eyebrows in an effort of memory; 
 "ah, yes, Corea, to be sure. He told me just now 
 he was leaving to-morrow. Mon DieuS he added, 
 leaning forward to deposit the ash of his cigar in 
 the lacquered tray, his eyes twinkling, "one must 
 send him somewhere." 
 
 "It happens," pursued Alexis, "that I have 
 some despatches for our diplomatic agent in 
 Egypt too important for the mail. Just now 
 we are short-handed at the Embassy. Would it 
 embarrass you if Trecourt remained over a day in 
 Cairo to deliver them? He goes by Suez, I pre 
 sume?" 
 
 " By no means, my dear colleague, by no means. 
 Send them to me. I will make a note of it " 
 taking out his tablets "and now, shall we join 
 the ladies?" 
 
 Meanwhile Tatia s thoughts were continually 
 slipping away from the formalities of after-dinner 
 conversation. She was thankful when the last 
 guest had departed. The first bewilderment pro- 
 
 212 
 
HELEN 
 
 duced by Jean s abrupt announcement had been 
 succeeded by a deep concern. She was not dis 
 tinguished for her ultra-conventional methods. 
 In yielding to her impulse to achieve for Helen 
 a happiness supreme in her own heart, she had 
 counted upon piloting the ship of Helen s des 
 tiny with her own experienced hands. Helen had 
 never had any secrets she had not shared. In the 
 sincerity and affection of her motives she had for 
 gotten that she had one which she had not shared 
 with Helen. The thought that there should grow 
 up between them any detachment of interest dis 
 mayed her. 
 
 She was not in the habit of weighing her words 
 with any one, never with Helen at least not 
 till recently. The mere thought of doing so would 
 have given them a significance foreign to her im 
 pulsive utterances, outbursts which always van 
 ished like a puff of steam. But when sitting be 
 fore the fire that evening in Helen s room, timidity, 
 near neighbor to embarrassment, paralyzed her. It 
 would have been better to trust to the inspiration 
 of feeling, instead of which she began to choose 
 her words. She was choosing them, stamping 
 each one with the seal of thoughtful approval, 
 while looking at Helen, reflected in the mirror 
 over the fireplace. She had consulted Dimitri 
 over Helen s use of the motor. He had not seemed 
 much impressed by her concern and had coun 
 selled caution. Just now this grievance was not 
 
 213 
 
HELEN 
 
 troubling her, but she might make it a stepping- 
 stone. The slender figure in the mirror in night 
 dress and plaited hair was such a frail one that she 
 longed to gather it up in her arms which would 
 have been infinitely best. 
 
 It was the auspicious moment for just that, for 
 Helen, too, was in need. She had not meant to 
 be kind to Monsieur de Trecourt. She had not 
 meant to be unkind to him. She had meant to be 
 neither, to hold an even course, as one is prone 
 to do when the mind wars with the heart. And 
 she had been both kind and unkind. She had 
 made him flush with happiness, and she had made 
 him miserable with disappointment. She had 
 been untrue to herself and she was herself miser 
 ably unhappy. She knew now why. She knew 
 when he bent over her hand without lifting his 
 eyes and went away in silence. She knew now 
 when she met her own revealing eyes in the mirror 
 of the toilet-table. One moment more and she 
 had risen to do what the Princess was longing to 
 do herself. Unfortunately Tatia spoke first, for 
 getting her stepping-stone, putting her finger on 
 the sorest spot of the heart and the melting 
 mood changed to ice. 
 
 "Helen, I understand Monsieur de Tr6court " 
 
 The supple figure before the glass became in 
 stantly rigid. 
 
 " leaves to-morrow for Corea did he tell 
 you?" 
 
 214 
 
HELEN 
 
 "Monsieur de Tr6court doesn t confide his 
 plans to me." 
 
 The Princess lost her bearings. It was rather 
 late to confide her own plans, and the carefully 
 chosen words slipped out of hand. 
 
 "I hoped you might " 
 
 She got no further. The cynical laugh cut her 
 sentence in two like a knife. 
 
 "Please Tatia" she turned out the light 
 above the dressing-table as she spoke "I am 
 not interested in Corea, and I m mortally sleepy." 
 
 The Princess stared at her, speechless. The 
 words were both a shock and a revelation. She 
 loves him after all, she thought, and sprang to her 
 feet. There was no response in the averted face, 
 and instantly the wall between them rose moun 
 tains high. She made a desperate effort to sur 
 mount it, but the eyes would not meet hers and 
 the lips barely touched her cheek. 
 
 "Good-night, Tatia." 
 
 "Good-night," she murmured, bewildered and 
 sore of heart. 
 
XXII 
 
 THE express for Marseilles stood waiting in the 
 Lyons station for the last signal. 
 
 Venders of sandwiches and pillows were hurry 
 ing from window to window. Porters, bent with 
 luggage and followed by anxious travellers search 
 ing for empty compartments, elbowed their way 
 through the struggling crowd. Without, rain was 
 falling in torrents. Its roar on the glass roof over 
 head sounded incessant above the shrill cries of 
 men and women, over whom the wind swept the 
 swirling clouds of pungent smoke from the engine 
 panting rhythmically outside the great iron arch. 
 As the hands of the big clock suspended above the 
 platform neared the hour, the station-master in 
 his red and gold cap lifted his hand, doors were 
 banged to the cry of "En voiture, messieurs!" and 
 hands waved farewells from the windows. 
 
 Jean s foot was on the step when a slender fig 
 ure wrapped in a crimson cloak forced its way 
 through the throng about him. Helen! Helen! 
 She was in his arms "Oh, my Helen!" 
 
 Just for a moment, a moment to be remem 
 bered through eternity, he held her, lips to lips, 
 in the smoke and wind, deaf to the world. "Quick 
 go you will be left Oh, quick, quick!" she 
 gasped, struggling free. A rough voice in his ear 
 
 216 
 
HELEN 
 
 cried, "Voyons! voyons! montezdonc!" a vigorous 
 hand pushed him up the step, the door clanged, 
 and the platform, with its sea of upturned faces 
 under the flickering lights, slid slowly backward. 
 
 At the window, the moisture of her lips still on 
 his, the freshness of her cheek wet with the rain 
 still against his, staring into the night which like 
 a tunnel engulfed him, he heard a thin, high voice 
 saying pleasantly : 
 
 If monsieur does not object we will close the 
 window. The night air is unhealthy." 
 
 A little old man in the remote corner of the 
 compartment, fumbling in his portmanteau and 
 smiling at the follies of youth, was putting on his 
 skull-cap. 
 
XXIII 
 
 FOR Madame de Chavigny life centred in the per 
 son of Helen. It was not in her nature to be actu 
 ally jealous of the Princess Ghica s possession, yet 
 she was not wholly reconciled to the winter s dis 
 tribution of it. To the Princess it seemed that 
 when Helen was not ransacking Paris for Jack s 
 outfit she was sure to be found in the Rue du Bac. 
 To Madame de Chavigny these visits seemed few 
 and far between. It was always a sacrifice to sur 
 render her treasure in favor of engagements made 
 in the Avenue Montaigne, or on the appearance 
 of Jacques to say that mademoiselle s car had 
 returned for her and the plea that Peter could not 
 be kept waiting indefinitely. It was a delicate 
 matter to risk offending the Princess, whose 
 claims of affection were too sincere to be under 
 valued. Nevertheless her own claims were para 
 mount, and all others perilously near intrusions. 
 She had not discussed the future with Helen, but 
 with the coming of springtime and its annual 
 flight into the country she counted^upon entering 
 into fuller possession of her rights. At first the 
 contrast between the seclusion of the Rue du Bac 
 and the life of the Avenue Montaigne had af 
 frighted her, as if the all she had to offer, the love 
 
 218 
 
HELEN 
 
 of an old woman, were not enough to set against 
 the seductions of the great outside world. Little 
 by little this fear had passed, and the tacit under 
 standing that they belonged^to each other became 
 firmly established. To the claims of the Villa 
 Fontana neither ever referred. 
 
 Every afternoon, when dipping her biscuit in 
 the sherry, she heard Jacques, an enormous box 
 of flowers in his arms, say proudly, "for Madame 
 la Comtesse from mademoiselle" a formula re 
 peated the twentieth time with as much unction 
 as the first. 
 
 It was Helen, fresh as a flower herself, who 
 brought them to-day, walking in with maid and 
 portmanteau and the astounding and enchanting 
 announcement of her intention to remain over 
 night. It was her first visit of that length, and a 
 rare excitement pervaded the household; for the 
 bedroom overlooking the court was to be prepared 
 and additions made to the day s menu suitable for 
 a young lady whose wealth, according to Jacques s 
 estimate, attained fabulous proportions. 
 
 Without, the day bore no resemblance to the 
 joyous one within. On the flagging of the court 
 the pools of gathering water, lashed by the furi 
 ous rain, danced in the glare of the lights, lit long 
 before their time. But rain or shine, there was a 
 dress, ordered for the Embassy ball, to receive a 
 last verdict at six o clock. In vain Madame de 
 Chavigny protested that to-morrow would do as 
 
 219 
 
HELEN 
 
 well. No, Peter was coming at half-past five. 
 What did a little rain matter! 
 
 There was another thing to be done, rain or 
 shine. Something which at daybreak loomed only 
 vague and shadowy in the background of the 
 heart, like the phantom shapes of the pedestrians 
 seen through the obscuring mist when the shut 
 ters were first parted in the Avenue Montaigne 
 a trivial thing, just the desire to clear away a mis 
 understanding, to set herself right, to heal a self- 
 inflicted wound trivial, yet difficult of perform 
 ance, but oh ! so necessary and right ! 
 
 The thought that Monsieur de Trcourt, on this 
 the day of his departure, might look in upon the 
 Rue du Bac had come even before the shutters 
 were drawn. It was this thought that led to 
 the note that went up on Tatia s breakfast 
 tray, to be interpreted as the sequel to the night 
 before. 
 
 But if Monsieur de Tr6court should not go to 
 the Rue du Bac! 
 
 The vague desire became a hunger then, almost 
 a purpose ; and on the way through the city it 
 was only a little detour the car stopped in the 
 Rue Vignon where Peter brought back the mes 
 sage that the express connecting with the Messag- 
 eries Steamer for the East left at seven. What 
 should be the token of good-will and Godspeed, 
 the messenger to clear misunderstanding away, 
 the balm to heal the wound? One there was, mes- 
 
 220 
 
HELEN 
 
 senger and balm in one, not to be bought in shops 
 or sent by other hands. She saw it reflected in the 
 silver salver when she poured the sherry for grand 
 mamma, listening to the story of that madcap 
 godson s visit of farewell that very morning. 
 May God go with him! It spoke to her in the 
 quiet room overlooking the court when she fas 
 tened a borrowed few of grandmamma s violets 
 just inside the fur of her cloak. She saw it again, 
 face to face and more imperative, in the long pier- 
 glass when the genius who presided over skirts, 
 on her knees, her mouth full of pins, evened the 
 train of her creation and pronounced it perfect 
 so imperative that when Peter, waiting for the 
 order home, heard instead Gare de Lyon, inde 
 cision had vanished ; and Peter, obedient and safe 
 driver, closed the door upon a heap of passion- 
 driven humanity, huddled in the dark corner of 
 the car. 
 
 Passion-driven, but very resolute and calm, 
 intent on squaring justice with mercy, till in the 
 smoke and wind, the roar of voices and steam, 
 struggling through the crowd under the clock 
 which would not wait, arms caught her, the cur 
 rents of passion met, and swept her away. 
 
 Where? Just now, speeding homeward, it did 
 not matter. It was easier to look backward, over 
 the wonderful way she had come, from that first 
 ridiculous encounter on the landing at the head 
 of the stairs to the present overpowering joy of 
 
 221 
 
HELEN 
 
 surrender and possession. Why had she struggled? 
 when a single instant of confession sufficed to 
 redeem and justify everything! It was as if all 
 conflicting emotions had suddenly arranged them 
 selves in a preordained harmony, from which 
 trouble of heart and confusion of purpose, regret 
 and self-condemnation had gone forever. 
 
 The evening was warm and sultry. The fury 
 of the storm had spent itself, stars were beginning 
 to show through the low drift of cloud, and before 
 the glare of windows blurred by the moisture, 
 under the dripping trees and awnings, the hurry 
 ing stream of life flowed on unceasing. She low 
 ered the shade at her side, shutting out this world 
 which had no part in hers, holding fast to that 
 moment which had thrust her, almost brutally, 
 like a thing without will, into her new world, 
 leaning back with closed eyes, not yet able to re 
 concile the loss of self-possession with the joy of 
 surrender. Far away, somewhere beyond the 
 curtained window was the world of shadows, 
 Madame de Chavigny, Tatia, Jack, an hour ago so 
 vital in their reality and importance, now to be 
 re- grouped, readjusted, and subordinated to a 
 new and supreme necessity. An hour ago they 
 had been sufficient now she was not even suffi 
 cient unto herself. For she was no longer alone, 
 would never be alone again. The thought surged 
 up with all its overpowering content of mysteri 
 ous meaning, obliterating everything. 
 
 222 
 
HELEN 
 
 As the motor turned into the Rue du Bac she 
 sat up. Here began the world to be reckoned 
 with. How was he facing it! What was he think 
 ing, doing! A quick revulsion of loneliness, of 
 helplessness, came over her, the fear of his im 
 pulsive boyishness, the longing to consult him, 
 the old challenge of what ought to be done, with 
 which Jack s thoughtlessness had so often con 
 fronted her. What was to be done she knew well, 
 and she did not recoil from it. For the first time 
 in her life she had something to conceal, some 
 thing hidden in her heart which could live only in 
 the sun. That she was ready to proclaim to the 
 whole world but to explain, to share with any 
 one, even her grandmother, that one moment of 
 abandonment in which she was still living oh, 
 if he were only here to speak for her! 
 
 Peter, deferential but observant, dropped his 
 eyes to the running-board as he opened the door. 
 This was not Peter s way, and a hot flush rose to 
 her cheek. 
 
 There were voices in the drawing-room, and 
 in answer to the enquiry in her eyes she heard 
 Jacques saying: 
 
 "His Excellency Monsieur Saranow, mademoi 
 selle." 
 
 On that dismal afternoon Monsieur Saranow 
 had conceived the happy idea that depressing 
 weather sometimes had a depressing effect on 
 prices. He would make that stubborn old man in 
 
 223 
 
HELEN 
 
 the Rue du Bac a final offer. He ordered his car 
 riage, but left it at the Quai in order to divest him 
 self of all superfluous importance, walking up the 
 street under his dripping umbrella and making his 
 offer with the nonchalance and indifference of the 
 casual visitor. A moment later he was climbing 
 the stairs to Madame de Chavigny s apartment. 
 The coveted masterpiece of Boulle was his. Not 
 to share his satisfaction with some one was im 
 possible. He found Madame de Chavigny disap 
 pointingly unsympathetic. She was in despair 
 over the prolonged absence of her granddaughter 
 who, two hours before, had gone for a fitting 
 and without her maid! Something certainly had 
 happened. He was offering to send his own car 
 riage when the bell tinkled in the antechamber 
 and Helen stood in the doorway. 
 
 "My child, how you have frightened me!" 
 exclaimed Madame de Chavigny, stretching out 
 her hands. 
 
 Coming quickly forward, Helen took them in 
 hers and bent to the upturned face. She made no 
 attempt to explain. Only one explanation was 
 possible. She was grateful for delay, for Mon 
 sieur Saranow s presence. Disengaging herself 
 from the arms about her neck, she caught his 
 grey-blue eyes fixed upon her. He thought her at 
 that moment extraordinarily handsome. A dress 
 maker who could bungle over such a figure for two 
 hours should be summarily dismissed! She read 
 
 224 
 
HELEN 
 
 his frank admiration in his eyes and held out her 
 hand. 
 
 "Have I kept dinner waiting? Forgive me." 
 
 Monsieur Saranow reached for his hat and 
 gloves. "That would be a pleasure, but " 
 
 "Wait a moment, both of you," interrupted 
 Madame de Chavigny. "Helen, Monsieur Sara 
 now has been telling me about our Jean " 
 
 Helen started. "About " the name with its 
 new sense of intimacy died upon her lips 
 "about Monsieur de Trdcourt! What has hap 
 pened?" 
 
 "Nothing has happened, mademoiselle," said 
 Monsieur Saranow, smiling. "I was only telling 
 Madame de Chavigny that our friend Coulomb 
 has been good enough to lend him to me. Is he 
 not to be trusted?" 
 
 "What a villainous question!" protested Ma 
 dame de Chavigny. 
 
 "I asked mademoiselle," said Monsieur Sara 
 now. He was still smiling, but to Helen something 
 dry and hostile in his tone jarred with the smile. 
 He seemed to be saying : You have been commit 
 ting another indiscretion, and this time it is more 
 serious/ 
 
 She faced the smile bravely. "You should have 
 asked that before borrowing him. Will you ex 
 cuse me, please, grandmamma my cloak is drip 
 ping." 
 
 What did he mean by borrowing Jean? Why 
 225 
 
HELEN 
 
 should he not trust him? Madame de Chavigny 
 explained at dinner that Jean had been entrusted 
 with despatches for Monsieur Saranow s colleague 
 in Cairo, despatches of much importance, since 
 they were not confided to the post. It was an 
 excellent thing for him. He would have two weeks 
 in Egypt between steamers. 
 
 Helen listened in silence. She was eating noth 
 ing. Dissimulation was a hard master. She was 
 evidently tired. Nothing was so fatiguing as 
 being fitted. Her grandmother urged her to re 
 tire early. As for herself she would amuse herself 
 with solitaire that evening instead of dominos 
 thankful that nothing had happened! 
 
 As the Marseilles express, free from the cau 
 tioning lights of interlacing tracks, was gathering 
 speed for its night journey, Hearing s motor, the 
 rain dripping from its hood, crept under the porte- 
 cochere of the Imperial. 
 
 Jack, impatient, was at the telephone before 
 the luggaga was brought in. 
 
 "Hullo is that you, Aunt Tatia yes, this 
 is Jack We ve just got back yes, the Im 
 perial how it rained how s Helen not 
 there Oh, at grandma s, is she hope you re 
 not tired of her yes, we Ve had a splendid 
 time Mr. Fearing Oh, he s all right yes, 
 to-morrow good-night." 
 
 He turned an eager face to Fearing. "Would it 
 
 226 
 
HELEN 
 
 be too rough on Felix" Felix was the chauffeur 
 "to take me over? She s at grandma s just 
 for a minute?" 
 
 "No, certainly not," laughed Fearing; "don t 
 waste that minute." And Jack disappeared in the 
 whirlwind of the revolving door. 
 
 Presently came back Felix, bringing a note 
 from Helen. She was going to keep Jack for the 
 night. It was a very brief little note, evidently 
 written in haste, ending in the short, pathetic 
 sentence: "You know there are only a few days 
 left." 
 
 Only a few days! Jack s passionate devotion 
 was real enough, but masculine. His dawning 
 world held other emotions. It means a lot more 
 to her than to him, thought Fearing, his mind 
 wandering forward into the future. Beyond plac 
 ing Jack in one of the best schools in the country, 
 he had not given much thought to the future. He 
 owned a ranch in the West where Jack could learn 
 to ride while waiting for the autumn term, for 
 it might be difficult to place him in mid-winter. 
 The manager was a careful man, with whom Jack 
 would be quite safe and happy. He would try and 
 get out himself for a week in the summer dulness. 
 All this had seemed a very simple matter in Nice, 
 and the Princess had taken charge of Helen. He 
 was glad she got along so well with her grand 
 mother. Notwithstanding all these satisfactory 
 details, his ordered life appeared to be getting, in 
 
 227 
 
HELEN 
 
 some not clearly understood way, more and more 
 complicated. 
 
 He did not tear up the note with his other dis 
 carded letters. 
 
 Jack found Helen in her room over the court 
 yard. Grandmamma explained how extremely 
 wearing fittings were and that Helen had been 
 persuaded to retire early. He found her as he 
 liked best to find her, midway between what he 
 termed dressed up and undressed, an inter 
 mediate state of greater accessibility and toler 
 ance. 
 
 "Hullo, little girl," he said, coming in with a 
 rush and flinging both arms about her. 
 
 "Jack, dear," she whispered, half smothered. 
 
 "Now don t begin to be fidgety because I m 
 going away." He thought she was looking pale. 
 "Is n t it what we have always wanted?" 
 
 She acquiesced. She had been putting his ward 
 robe in order, and he listened approvingly to the 
 enumeration, less patiently to some counsels, but 
 solemn in promises to do exactly as if she were 
 there. 
 
 "It won t be exactly as if I were there, dear." j 
 
 "It will if I promise, won t it?" 
 
 She did not reproach him for missing the point, 
 and asked him about his journey with Mr. Fear 
 ing. Oh, he had had a glorious time! Mr. Fear 
 ing was splendid. 
 
 "What makes you like him so, Jack?" 
 
 228 
 
HELEN 
 
 "You asked me that question once before. I 
 suppose it s partly because he likes me," he 
 averred, laying hold of the profoundest of explan 
 ations. 
 
 "That can t be the only reason." 
 
 "It s one of them. Why, you ve got a new 
 cloak," he exclaimed, spying the garment over 
 the back of a chair. "Let me see it on." He 
 threw it over her. "You do look stunning in it ! " 
 and the arms went round her again. He felt the 
 slight shudder of revulsion, and interpreted it 
 laughingly after his own fashion. "I won t hurt 
 the fur, dear. So Trcourt has gone." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "I like him too." 
 
 "Do you, dear? I am glad." 
 
 Something was knocking at the door of her 
 heart, but Jack s thoughts were far afield. 
 
 "Mr. Fearing s got a ranch out West with real 
 cowboys on it. He s going to let me go out there 
 till school begins. Do you suppose there are any 
 real Indians left? You know the buffaloes have 
 gone long ago." 
 
 Helen laughed. "Oh, Jack, what a real boy 
 you are!" 
 
 She was glad when his eyes grew heavy. The 
 knocking at the door would not be denied. He 
 made her promise to come and kiss him good 
 night when he was in bed just for old time s 
 sake. She promised. 
 
 229 
 
HELEN 
 
 A few minutes later the rapidity of Jack s 
 toilets was always a marvel she had closed his 
 door and, candle in hand, was standing at her 
 grandmother s. 
 
XXIV 
 
 WHEN Monsieur de Chavigny was starving the 
 affections of his consort in the name of Principle 
 and Duty, the latter had resorted to that great 
 comforter of the oppressed, imagination. With 
 its help she fed herself surreptitiously. When, for 
 example, through the window of her coup6 she 
 saw a nurse approaching under the trees of the 
 allee, she said to herself: There are my grand 
 children taking the air how pretty they are, the 
 dears ! And while the coup6 was rolling on she 
 stopped it by a trick she was familiar with in order 
 to alight, to pat their rosy cheeks and say : Good- 
 morning, my children. She lingered, too, for a 
 moment s talk with the nurse, cautioning her to 
 exercise great care at the crossings, and giving her 
 much necessary advice before resuming her place 
 in the coupe. In like manner, when the bell rang 
 in the antechamber, without the least effort on her 
 part she exclaimed: Ah, it is Hlene! I know by 
 the sound. She always rings in that manner. She 
 played this game most successfully at night, as the 
 pillow strained to her heart could testify. Un 
 fortunately it was a game at which she never won. 
 The children in the allSe disappeared as do all 
 phantoms; before the bell had ceased tinkling 
 Jacques came with the bill of the fishmonger over 
 
 231 
 
HELEN 
 
 the way, and in the morning the pillow was wet 
 with tears. 
 
 At present Madame de Chavigny was taking 
 her revenge. From force of habit she continued 
 her solitary game with Destiny, but she reversed 
 her processes. When a carriage stopped before 
 the archway and a light step fell on the staircase 
 she said: It is that tiresome lodger on the floor 
 above, what a noise he makes! grumbling to 
 herself till Helen was actually in her arms. As for 
 the pillow, there were still tears upon it, but she 
 did not mind them. 
 
 When her door opened on the evening of 
 Helen s fitting, she had barely recovered from her 
 anxiety. She caught a glimpse in the mirror of the 
 figure in robe-de-chambre, advancing candle in 
 hand. It was not because she thought her safe 
 in bed that she refused to see her. Imagination, 
 long trained to deception, saw in this figure a 
 thief, come for the Chavigny emeralds. That 
 these emeralds were at that moment in the Ave 
 nue Montaigne did not matter in the least. He 
 approached warily, two strong arms clasped from 
 behind about her neck held her firmly, she was 
 about to be strangled 
 
 "My child, how your heart is beating!" 
 
 "Grandmamma, I am a wicked, ungrateful girl 
 I have deceived you I was at the dressmak 
 er s I was at the station, too I went to say 
 good-bye to Jean wait, grandmamma, don t 
 
 232 
 
HELEN 
 
 speak I can t tell you if you do I had to go 
 and I m glad glad glad we love each 
 other." 
 
 "Helen, Helen," gasped the old lady, strug 
 gling with the encircling arms. Something in her 
 seemed to be giving way. 
 
 "Hush, don t let us talk." She loosened her 
 hold, sliding to the floor. " I m too happy and 
 too miserable." 
 
 The fugitive smile quivered in the corners of 
 the mouth, and the face was buried in the lap 
 between the knees. 
 
 Miserable! It was pure happiness to lie there. 
 Now at last that shyest and sturdiest flower of 
 the human heart, which had opened in the flaring 
 lights of the Lyons station, was in the sun. 
 
XXV 
 
 FEARING was in the breakfast-room the next morn 
 ing when Jack returned. Jack had had coffee in 
 the Rue du Bac, but was not proof against the 
 temptation of a real breakfast. 
 
 "I only wanted to hug her once," Jack ex 
 plained, "but she made me stay." 
 
 "Quite right," said Fearing, the curve of amuse 
 ment deepening about the mouth. "Was she as 
 glad to see you as you were to see her?" 
 
 "I should say so!" replied Jack; "she almost 
 cried. Helen is n t used to crying. I suppose it s 
 because I m going away so soon. She s got a 
 new cloak with fur on it," he added, giving his 
 attention to the sole for a page had just brought 
 a telegram. 
 
 Fearing opened it carelessly, till he saw the date: 
 Dijon, midnight. Who was telegraphing him from 
 Dijon? He knew no one there. He glanced first 
 at the signature Madge. 
 
 Ask the person you said you liked immensely who 
 the Phyllis in the crimson cloak was in the arms of 
 Corydon at the station to-night when the express left 
 Paris for Marseilles. Hope you will find Broad Street 
 tranquillizing. MADGE. 
 
 The meaning, though plain, sank slowly into 
 consciousness. Plainer still was the intent, and 
 
 234 
 
HELEN 
 
 as he re-read the message the words became 
 blurred and the face of Madge, the eyes hard with 
 anger, stared at him from the blue-tinted paper. 
 
 What a damnable lie! he muttered, swept by 
 a sudden gust of fury. But no! no conceivable 
 malice was equal to such infernal invention. It 
 was a mistake of course it was a mistake ! 
 
 Mechanically he folded the telegram and put 
 it away in his pocket-book. Jack watched him 
 thoughtfully. He had become accustomed to tele 
 grams during the past week, but he set this one 
 down as of exceptional importance. 
 
 "So Helen has a new cloak." 
 
 "Yes, a red one, with black fur on the collar and 
 all round the edges. It s awfully becoming." He 
 stopped. Clearly, thinking was going on, and he 
 paid it the tribute of silence. 
 
 "Jack, I am to be busy to-day. You can have 
 the car if you want it." 
 
 Jack s eyes followed him wonderingly as he left 
 the room. Probably, he concluded, he s got a lot 
 of letters to answer. He was always writing let 
 ters, and there was a whole bundle of them waiting 
 for him last night. The rain was over. The first 
 thing to do with liberty was to hunt up Felix and 
 think of something to do with Helen. 
 
 At the door Fearing looked at his watch. It was 
 early yet for Tatia, but waiting, groping about in 
 the blackness of vain imaginings, was impossible. 
 
 At the Avenue Montaigne the porter was still 
 
 235 
 
HELEN 
 
 in his blue apron. On the approach of the visitor 
 he darted into the lodge with his feather duster, 
 to reappear in braided coat. 
 
 No, Monsieur le Prince had not yet gone to the 
 Chancellerie. 
 
 "Take up my card," said Fearing shortly. 
 
 Dimitri was finishing breakfast, nothing on his 
 face but the usual smile of cordial greeting. He 
 had heard last night of their arrival. Jack had 
 telephoned. Had they had a good run? Then 
 Fearing burst out with : 
 
 "Where s Helen?" 
 
 "Did n t Jack tell you? At Madame de Cha- 
 vigny s." 
 
 "Yes, but what for?" 
 
 Dimitri looked puzzled. "Oh, a little change, a 
 little rest." Then their eyes met and he added, 
 "There s been no quarrel." 
 
 "Quarrel! Good God, man! One doesn t 
 quarrel with Helen!" 
 
 Dimitri smiled pleasantly. "No, nor with 
 Tatia. But Tatia s a trifle hasty at times. She 
 touched the wrong string, and it snapped." 
 
 "String! What string?" 
 
 "Quite against my advice. You know Tatia 
 does n t take very kindly to advice." 
 
 "Will you be good enough to explain yourself, 
 Dimitri? I am asking you instead of Helen. If 
 you won t clear up this nightmare, she will." 
 
 The blank look of unfeigned surprise on Dimi- 
 236 
 
HELEN 
 
 tri s face was one of genuine amazement. The man 
 speaking was not the man he knew. 
 
 "My dear fellow, there s no nightmare, and 
 there s nothing for men to get excited over. Helen 
 was rushing about town in your car all very 
 well while Jack was here to go with her. Tatia 
 undertook to suggest " 
 
 "Oh, is that all." He drew a long sigh of relief. 
 
 "That s all," assented Dimitri; unaware of 
 Tatia s straying from first intentions. "Helen 
 sent up a note yesterday with the breakfast-tray 
 saying she was going to spend the night with 
 Madame de Chavigny. It knocked up Tatia a bit, 
 naturally." 
 
 Fearing put on his hat. There was evidently 
 nothing to be learned from Dimitri. At the door 
 he turned, flinging back the words with sudden 
 energy. 
 
 "Tell Tatia to go and bring her back have 
 the splinter out! They re acting like children." 
 
 "Well, they are children," said Dimitri. 
 
 Something of Dimitri s optimism followed Fear 
 ing into the street. It must be a mistake, a drop of 
 venom from a woman s tongue a woman who 
 sheltered herself behind her womanhood. The 
 trees in the Avenue after the rain glistened in the 
 sun, and a vision of freshness and purity came to 
 him with an overwhelming sense of relief. One 
 look into her face would clear the poison from his 
 soul as the sun and rain had made the city clean. 
 
 237 
 
HELEN 
 
 Standing by the parapet at the end of the Av 
 enue, in the brilliant sunshine he saw something 
 else. That venomous little woman whom he had 
 put off with banter was right. His very resent 
 ment of her intrusive familiarity was proof 
 enough, if he needed proof had been proof 
 enough for her. What was he to do? Go and tell 
 her. Of course. He took the telegram from his 
 pocket, tore it into bits, and threw them into the 
 river. He watched them, flecks dancing in the 
 sunlight, but their message rankled in his heart, 
 sombre, incomprehensible, monstrous. He re 
 called every moment they had shared together 
 since their first meeting at the gate of the villa, 
 every word she had uttered. And all that time 
 Jack had been only a subterfuge! Go and tell her, 
 of course. Yet he found himself walking errati 
 cally along the quay, Madge s miserable lie stab 
 bing him like a knife at every step. For it was a 
 lie, pure invention, malice. Go and tell her, of 
 course. 
 
 At the doorway in the Rue du Bac both cars 
 were waiting. Felix and Peter. Jack had lost no 
 time. The ugly temptation to ask Peter where he 
 had been the night before flashed through his 
 mind and was flung aside into the gutter where 
 it belonged with the mud and refuse of the street 
 trickling to the sewer. 
 
 The subdued light and silence of Madame de 
 Chavigny s salon were like a cool draught of water. 
 
 238 
 
HELEN 
 
 From the central space of the long side wall the 
 portrait of the Count, the star on his breast, 
 looked down upon him with the satisfied air of 
 conscious rectitude. He moved about restlessly, 
 waiting, listening for the coming footstep, to stop 
 before a miniature framed in ebony on the table 
 by the armchair Helene. The same firm little 
 mouth, quick to smile or to quiver, the same slight 
 tilt to the nose softening the expression of pride 
 Helen at the gate of the Villa Fontana. If the 
 telegram were a lie, to put it under those eyes 
 would be like fouling a mountain spring. If it 
 were true the humor of it brought a bitter 
 laugh. From the face in the ebony frame he 
 turned to the one on the wall. Nothing of hers 
 there nothing and suddenly he heard the 
 Princess Ghica saying: "Come to the point a 
 woman s face counts for something." What did 
 it count for, for him, that it had not counted 
 then? 
 
 "Mr. Fearing." 
 
 She had come in so quietly that the voice star 
 tled him, miniature in hand. She was dressed for 
 the street, in the crimson cloak with the black 
 fur Jack had declared so becoming otherwise 
 exactly the Helen he had left. What else in Heav 
 en s name had he expected! Merely to look at 
 her was answer enough. 
 
 "It s so like you," he said, putting down the 
 miniature, "I hardly know which to speak to." 
 
 239 
 
HELEN 
 
 "I love to hear any one say that. We were 
 going out, Jack and I. I am sorry." 
 
 "That s all right. I might have brought him 
 back a day earlier, but the rain " 
 
 " It does n t matter. We decided that once for 
 all." 
 
 "Where are you going? " he asked, as Jack came 
 in. 
 
 " I have left that to Jack. He likes to steer my 
 ship. Not far. I am going first to Tatia s." 
 
 "I am glad of that." 
 
 She gave him a quick glance. "Have you seen 
 her?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " I have hurt her feelings. I am going to make 
 amends." 
 
 "That s the right thing to do." 
 
 She gave him another queer little look which 
 seemed to say: You don t know what you are 
 talking about. " I want you to promise me some 
 thing. You said the other day I might cable you 
 if I needed to. Will you promise to cable me if 
 Jack needs me?" 
 
 "Of course I will. You can depend upon that." 
 
 "I do. I shall miss you both. It s day after 
 to-morrow, is n t it?" 
 
 It s never if you say so the words were on 
 his lips but he could not speak before Jack. 
 
 "Yes, day after to-morrow." 
 
 "Have you got your purse, Helen?" whispered 
 
 240 
 
HELEN 
 
 Jack as they passed out under the archway; "it s 
 our last spree together, you know." 
 
 With the purse a little slip of yellow paste 
 board came from the deep pocket and, fluttering 
 idly, caught in the fur trimming of her cloak. 
 
 " It s nothing," she said to Fearing, shaking it 
 free "Good-bye" and Peter threw in the 
 clutch. 
 
 Fearing was staring at the yellow slip of paste 
 board at his feet the entrance pass for visitors 
 to the platform of the Gare de Lyon. 
 
XXVI 
 
 WHEN in trouble men resort to various harbors of 
 refuge. Fearing* s refuge was the desk in Broad 
 Street. Its nearest substitute in Paris was closed. 
 All the preparations for his departure were made. 
 His passage had been secured, a compartment re 
 served in the Calais express, Helen s affairs at 
 Murray Brothers attended to. There was liter 
 ally nothing remaining to do. The busy day he 
 had spoken of to Jack vanished when the motor 
 turned the corner at the foot of the street. Tatia 
 had begged him to lunch with her and Dimitri, 
 informally, a farewell luncheon, and he had ac 
 cepted but that was three hours away. 
 
 At one o clock he was in the Avenue Montaigne, 
 the three hours gone. He could not have told what 
 he had been thinking in the interval, hard think 
 ing with no progress or results. But he could have 
 described minutely what he had done. He had 
 dismissed Felix. Then there was a steamer which 
 fussed and fumed along the brown river, stopping 
 at innumerable landings. The wind on deck was 
 cold and piercing. A man in a blue cotton blouse 
 had talked to him volubly. There was a palace, 
 more or less in ruins, the gardens converted to 
 public use desolate in winter. Then the 
 steamer again and a terrace with a wide view, 
 
 242 
 
HELEN 
 
 deserted, wind-swept pictures on a museum 
 wall of cave men and women, one woman almost 
 naked, with long, dishevelled hair and timid, ap 
 pealing eyes and cases full of flint implements 
 and a forest, leafless one old man, bent 
 over, was gathering fagots then the steamer 
 again, and now the porter in his braided coat 
 pictures stamped as it were while he was absent 
 on the plates of memory. 
 
 Dimitri welcomed him cordially, but was more 
 taciturn than usual. No reference was made to 
 his earlier visit. They talked about nothing. 
 Tatia would be in directly. He, Dimitri, had just 
 got back from the Embassy. Would he have a bit 
 of caviar and a glass of vodka while waiting for 
 Tatia? Then Tatia burst in like a tornado, herself 
 bursting with information. 
 
 " Dimitri, Helen has been here she and Tr- 
 court it is all settled " Then she stopped 
 short, catching sight of Fearing sitting apart in 
 the embrasure of the window. On his face she 
 read what every woman reads best, and her own 
 went white. The woman of the Siberian proverb 
 had smiled upon him and he was undone. 
 
 Fearing sprang to his feet. "Run, Dimitri, 
 quick some water the Princess is fainting." 
 
 Dimitri knew that Tatia never fainted. Never 
 theless he ran. 
 
 "Oh, David!" she moaned. The tears were 
 running down her cheeks. 
 
 243 
 
HELEN 
 
 "That s very nice of you, Tatia," he said, tak 
 ing her hands and covering them in his own; "no 
 body s called me that since I was a boy. But you 
 are not fainting properly enough for Dimitri." 
 
 She straightened up. "You iron man!" she 
 whispered. 
 
 "That s what I thought myself. I told you once 
 you were a terrible eavesdropper." He pressed 
 her hand for silence as Dimitri came in. "It s 
 nothing," he said; "when a woman can cry she s 
 all right. I 11 run in again. If not, you will all be 
 at the station Saturday." 
 
 Tatia was staring into Dimitri s face. 
 
 "I knew it this morning," he said. 
 
 Walking down the Avenue slowly, Fearing tore 
 a yellow slip of pasteboard in pieces and threw 
 them in the gutter. What a fool he had been to 
 think she had ever had anything to conceal ! The 
 bitter shame of feeling that she had ever been in 
 need of reinstatement! Still, that thought was up 
 permost, that she was back again on her pedestal 
 for him a sort of plank to cling to in shipwreck. 
 
 Down the Avenue, across the Place, and into 
 the Rue Royale, without any conscious sense of 
 direction, he found himself standing before a 
 window brilliant with jewels, as once he had 
 stood before the vitrine in the Majestic at Nice 
 long ago! 
 
 After a moment he went in. 
 244 
 
HELEN 
 
 "Show me something in pearls," he said. 
 
 The head of the house came forward instantly. 
 Like the rest of the world he saw that he had to 
 do with a man who was serious. 
 
 "Is that the best you have? * asked Fearing, 
 looking over the display set before him. 
 
 "Ah, if monsieur desires something really 
 good" the doors of the safe swung aside 
 "something unique, which cannot be equalled in 
 Paris something we have been years in collect 
 ing " It was impossible to say whether this 
 impassive customer was dazzled or indifferent. 
 "Naturally, one cannot have a thing like this 
 see how perfectly they are matched " 
 
 "I was n t thinking of the price," said Fearing 
 dryly. 
 
 The shoulders lifted. 
 
 Fearing walked to the door, then came back. 
 " Do you know Murray bankers?" 
 
 "Certainly, monsieur." 
 
 "Well, have them insured and send them round 
 to Murray. He will have instructions." 
 
 In the street once more his step quickened. If 
 he had wronged her in thought well, this was 
 the best he could do in atonement. 
 
 At his hotel he went into the writing- room, sat 
 thoughtfully for a moment, then took up a pen. 
 
 My dear Mrs. Stuart, 
 
 I leave Saturday for Broad Street. Why do you 
 telegraph in cipher when every one has the code? For 
 
 245 
 
HELEN 
 
 a usually well-informed person you are decidedly be 
 hind the times. So I must help you out. Miss Lee s 
 engagement to Jean de Trecourt will undoubtedly be 
 announced soon in the proper manner. Of course we 
 are all pleased. 
 
 After addressing the envelope he tore it up. 
 "No," he said, " that s worth a cable." And he 
 took his letter-sheet to the telegraph office. 
 
XXVII 
 
 "IF agreeable to you we will lower this green 
 shade. One must sleep when one can." 
 
 The voice seemed to come from some immeas 
 urable distance. Opening his eyes, Jean saw his 
 fellow passenger in the far corner of the compart 
 ment, who, after shielding his eyes from the 
 glare of the light overhead, had spread his travel 
 ling-rug over his knees, pulled the black skull-cap 
 firmly down about his ears, and was composing 
 himself for sleep. 
 
 Clinging with all the strength of his will and 
 memory to that moment of rapture and misery 
 into which all life was concentrated, he hated this 
 placid man who could so smile and sleep. 
 
 To sleep ! To be carried off like a bundle of straw 
 by this brutal mass of iron and steel, not to know 
 what this moment she was thinking, doing, suffer 
 ing! What were honors, mission, career, while 
 those consenting lips were fresh upon his own with 
 a reality to which memory could add nothing! 
 How could he have been so blind, loitering like a 
 timid child at the wide-open gates of Paradise! 
 Child he had been, child he would be no longer. 
 Struggling with the tumult of his heart, out of the 
 chaos one purpose rose irresistible, triumphant. 
 At the first stop he would leave the train and 
 
 247 
 
HELEN 
 
 return to Paris. Should he hesitate to throw to 
 the winds the less dear for the dearer? 
 
 Opening the door into the corridor, he called the 
 guard and gave the necessary instructions for the 
 disposition of his luggage. 
 
 "Monsieur!" It was the wearer of the black 
 skull-cap, whose slumber he was disturbing. 
 "Have I by any chance the good fortune to 
 address Monsieur Jean de Trcourt?" 
 
 "That is my name." 
 
 "Capital!" smiled his companion still more 
 affably and ignoring the curt tone of the reply; 
 "you save me all further trouble. I was counting 
 upon the pleasure of making your acquaintance 
 in Marseilles when by good luck I observed those 
 initials on your portmanteau. You are sailing 
 to-morrow night on the Toulon for Corea." 
 
 "You are well informed," said Jean, making no 
 effort to conceal his annoyance. 
 
 "That is my business," said the stranger in his 
 soft voice of even politeness, "but to avoid all 
 possibility of error, since initials are often de 
 ceptive " 
 
 "This is too much!" cried Jean, exasperated 
 beyond control; "one would say I was a criminal 
 under investigation." 
 
 "Pardon me; if I had my doubts I have them 
 no longer. Your just anger dissipates them. But 
 in matters of importance one must proceed with 
 caution. Once, when a young man like yourself, 
 
 248 
 
HELEN 
 
 I made a mistake which cost me dear and which I 
 cannot afford to repeat." He was unlocking the 
 leather case on his knees. "Permit me to intro 
 duce myself. I am the official bearer of despatches 
 at the Ministry, a humble colleague, on my way to 
 Morocco, and I have here for you" taking a 
 portfolio from the box and extracting two en- 
 veopes documents destined for the Russian 
 Agency in Cairo." 
 
 "But I am not going to Cairo," cried Jean, 
 whose irritation was getting out of bounds. 
 
 "Ah, as to that I have nothing to say. In con 
 fiding to you these documents my responsibility 
 is ended. Here they are verify them, I beg of 
 you, at your leisure. This one" he scrutinized 
 the address carefully "with the seal of the 
 Russian Embassy, for the Agency in Cairo, and 
 this one, for you personally, from the Ministry." 
 
 Standing under the light, Jean read the super 
 scriptions. It was quite true, they were as stated. 
 Impatiently he broke the seal of the smaller en 
 velope. Glancing down to the signature, his eye 
 caught the closing sentence : 
 
 These papers, of the highest importance, you will 
 deliver in person, proceeding thereafter without delay 
 by the first steamer to your post. 
 
 Below, in the scrawling hand of one for whom 
 a signature was a tiresome formality, was the 
 word: "Coulomb." 
 
 With that word came the realization that he 
 
 249 
 
HELEN 
 
 was no longer free. Then, faster than the train 
 speeding through the night, there rushed through 
 his brain confused thoughts, plans discarded as 
 soon as formed, like the objects in the phantom 
 landscape hurrying by the window, and back of 
 all the passionate desire to hold her again as he 
 had held her for one fleeting moment forced its 
 way .through the tumult of indecision regardless 
 of consequences. With that desire there was no 
 arguing, no reasoning. What should he say to her? 
 That he loved her? Just that? Was that enough? 
 He would have to be truthful anything less than 
 absolute candor was impossible, unthinkable. He 
 would have to persuade her that nothing but love 
 counted. Would that satisfy her? She had said 
 he was a child, and like a child he was ready to 
 throw everything away. 
 
 "Yes," he murmured, "as you say, it is from 
 Coulomb." 
 
 "So! it is from Coulomb himself? and he does 
 not consult you! It is a habit they have at the 
 Ministry. But console yourself. You do Cairo 
 injustice. It is a most interesting city and boasts 
 of many agreeable diversions. I would willingly 
 pass a week there myself. It would be absurd to 
 suppose that all the charms of Egypt perished with 
 the asp of Cleopatra." Furious at this garrulity, 
 Jean flashed a look of contempt at his tormentor 
 who was offering him his stylographic pen. " Par 
 don me a mere formality here is my receipt. 
 
 250 
 
HELEN 
 
 Thanks. And now that we have discharged our 
 duty" settling himself once more in his corner 
 "let us sleep. For, evidently, one must sleep 
 when one can. At your service, Monsieur de Tre- 
 court. Good-night." 
 
 Jean sank into his seat. No longer free! The 
 words repeated themselves incessantly, mechani 
 cally. The little old man in the corner in discharg 
 ing his responsibility had bound him fast with 
 the bonds of duty and honor. To-morrow he 
 would be in Marseilles in four days Cairo 
 but afterwards 
 
 On the shelf by the window, beside the hideous 
 ash-tray, were hotel circulars, time-tables, tele 
 gram blanks these would do! The breathing 
 of his companion had become regular and deep. 
 He raised cautiously the green shade on the side 
 nearest him, and feverishly, against the tremor 
 of the train which conspired with the trouble of 
 his brain, he began to write words, words, 
 words, vessels into which he poured out his heart, 
 yet which remained ever empty. 
 
 At Dijon, while Mrs. Stuart was feeing the 
 guard to deliver her telegram, he had barely time 
 to obtain an envelope and drop it in the letter 
 box of the station. 
 
 Addressed to the Avenue Montaigne, it fell 
 into Dimitri s hands. Observing the pencilled 
 superscription and postmark, he smiled, and sent 
 it over by special messenger to the Rue du Bac. 
 
 251 
 
HELEN 
 
 Helen had just returned from her drive with 
 Jack. Confidently expected and eagerly awaited 
 as this letter was, now that it had come she could 
 only hold it tight in her hand, sitting by the win 
 dow where, the night before, she had looked out 
 into the driving rain listening irresolute to the 
 voice that called her, and yielded. Once more she 
 heard that voice again, a bolder challenge. There 
 was no need to read. She knew beforehand all 
 he would say, for she knew him. He would come 
 back, abandon everything, sacrifice his career; 
 and every passionate appeal, against which she 
 would have to struggle, she would love the best, 
 in her own longing to be sheltered as well as to 
 shelter, to be held as well as to hold, to cease strug 
 gling, shut her eyes in surrender and let the flood 
 have its way. Once she had thought she knew the 
 meaning of separation Jack, too, in his way. 
 Yet neither had hesitated. This was different, 
 the rending of flesh and spirit. Corea! How far 
 away it was! And Uncle Hector s money, what 
 else was it for! One day, at Tatia s, she had over 
 heard Monsieur Saranow saying: "Love is like 
 a young animal, charming only in youth." What 
 if life should one day deny her all she now longed 
 for so passionately all within her grasp ! She 
 bent her head over her desk on Jean s pages, 
 weeping, silently, repeating to herself: It is not 
 true, it is not true. 
 
 She took up Jean s letter again. Suddenly, 
 
 252 
 
HELEN 
 
 with the last page, came the realization that she 
 must stop thinking, dreaming, instantly. She 
 thrust the pages out of sight in her desk and be 
 gan to write, in desperate haste, armed with that 
 weapon of sacrificial love forged in the long years 
 of her mothering of Jack. 
 
 I have written you a thousand times since always 
 to the same end. No, I do not reproach you for a single 
 word, for anything you have done. You forbid me to 
 treat you any longer as a child. How can you remember 
 and think so ! How can you think that I disparage 
 that very quality in you which attracts me, and alas ! 
 fills me with alarm. Reproach me rather for having in 
 abandoning to you all that is most precious to me 
 risked all that is most precious to you. Let us, as you 
 once said tome, think and speak with the candor of chil 
 dren, but let us not act with their indifference to con 
 sequences. You are going to Egypt. I knew it, for 
 Monsieur Saranow was here when I returned, and he 
 told me. Afterwards, you would come back, abandon 
 for my sake your present prospects. You undertake to 
 reconcile your father to this course. Ah, Jean dear, it 
 is I whom you seek to reconcile. Think how many 
 things must combine to form happiness! If my heart 
 tells me love were enough for mine, reason tells me it is 
 not sufficient for yours. No, no, you are not a child, 
 and without that success necessary to the man happi 
 ness would be only a phantom. Do not think I hold 
 lightly the sacrifices you wish to make. At the same 
 moment that I resist you I yield to you. It breaks my 
 heart to leave at my feet the dear gifts you place 
 there. Is it love that leaves them there, or this tortur 
 ing tyranny of reason that warns me not to stand in 
 your way I who ask only to stand at your side? 
 
 253 
 
HELEN 
 
 Both for if there is no love in reason there is reason 
 in love. 
 
 I am going to bare my whole heart to you. Why 
 should I recoil from saying to you with this pen what 
 I should say if you were here? Till you came it knew 
 but one love so different and yet so like what I have 
 given you my brother. He is about to leave me. If 
 in his interest I have the courage to let him go from my 
 arms, shall I be more selfish with what is dearer to me ! 
 Who will reconcile you if your career is broken? I! 
 Yes, if Heaven should break you in body or spirit and 
 that were permitted me. But what shall I avail if dis 
 appointment comes through love itself, through me! 
 Give yourself to me, dear Jean, as I gave myself to 
 you once and forever, and do not believe that in yield 
 ing to reason I withhold anything from you. 
 
 I ask myself if you were here should I have the 
 courage to say this to you. Do not ask me. What is a 
 little patience, a few years even if need be, to us who 
 have all life to consecrate to each other? Answer me 
 with your own courage, as I have answered you, as I 
 speak to you now, with the best that is in your heart. 
 
 HELEN. 
 
 Dear you may write to me about the Corean 
 lions. 
 
 She wrote the last words with the ghost of a 
 smile, and not daring to re-read, sealed the enve 
 lope quickly, wrote the address he had given, and 
 posted her letter with her own hand. 
 
XXVIII 
 
 THE day had proved one to be long remembered 
 in Jacques s calendar, the clockwork of his regular 
 duties having been thrown out of gear by a va 
 riety of unusual occurrences. To begin with, ^before 
 he had opened the salon shutters or changed the 
 water in the vases Madame la Comtesse had sent 
 him to the stand on the Quai Voltaire for a car 
 riage, and had departed wearing her best mantle, 
 the mantle reserved for occasions of ceremony, 
 without vouchsafing a word of explanation an 
 unheard-of proceeding. Never before had she 
 failed to honor him with her confidence. Where 
 was she going? To mass? She had no prayer- 
 book. To market? In the mantle? impossible. 
 She had not been to market since when was it 
 madame last went to market? He was wrestling 
 with this problem when the fiacre rumbled out of 
 sight. 
 
 Then the American gentleman, held in much 
 awe as the guardian of wealth, had called, and 
 with Master Jack and mademoiselle had departed, 
 also without leaving any orders. At what hour 
 was dinner to be served? Norn de Dieu! It was 
 humiliating to be so ignored. That madame 
 should remain away overnight was incredible. 
 Such a thing had not happened since the death 
 
 255 
 
HELEN 
 
 of monsieur. Where, moreover? and without 
 maid or portmanteau! Yet at nightfall she was 
 still abroad. Under the archway, searching both 
 ends of the street and peering into every passing 
 carriage, he was in despair. 
 
 Meanwhile, Madame de Chavigny, returning 
 from Avrincourt, was observing with satisfaction 
 from the car window the first faint signs of spring 
 in the orchards, and resolving to hasten her de 
 parture to the country. She was further enjoying 
 the fact that she had accomplished her mission 
 with tact and delicacy; that she had, as she 
 phrased it, "regularized" the situation, while re 
 maining loyal to Helen s confidences. To be the 
 sole possessor of these confidences was like manna 
 in the wilderness to her. It pleased her enor 
 mously to have the conduct of affairs in her own 
 hands. She had lost no time in taking command, 
 having determined promptly upon the necessary 
 measures even before Helen had finished her con 
 fession. These measures were so eminently proper 
 that she quite forgot at how late a stage her assist 
 ance had been invoked. 
 
 On her way to Avrincourt she gave much 
 thought to what she should say, also to what she 
 should withhold, entreating the Recording Angel 
 to deal leniently with any venial suppression of the 
 truth. Much as it had to do with the matter, the 
 sudden efflorescence of love in the Lyons station 
 must be ignored. It was quite unnecessary to 
 
 256 
 
HELEN 
 
 spread such a detail before profane eyes. Her own 
 pride as well as Helen s forbade it. Confidences 
 of this kind were for the confessional of the good 
 God. 
 
 There were other prudential considerations 
 also, not to be sacrificed to avarice by inoppor 
 tune disclosures. It were far better to put all 
 questions of sentiment wholly aside. Motives of 
 expediency, the duty of parents who look into the 
 future, were sufficient for her purpose without 
 dragging in passion. Indeed, it would be impossi 
 ble to reconcile passion with Jean s silent depar 
 ture. She thought of H61ene. Ah, what things 
 went on under one s very eyes! 
 
 The certainty that the Marquis de Trecourt, 
 whom early prodigalities had reduced to the neces 
 sity of making the most of a small estate in the 
 country, would not fail to see the alluring side 
 of her proposition, gave her also much concern 
 while watching the first flush of spring on the 
 lindens. 
 
 At the very outset of her interview it became 
 clear that the Marquis was not oblivious to this 
 consideration. Nor was he slow to enquire why 
 Madame la Comtesse had delayed her visit till 
 after Jean s departure for Corea. Her answer was 
 ready. Jean s deportment had been quite cor 
 rect and in this respect left nothing to be desired. 
 It was at this point that she offered up her peti 
 tion to the Recording Angel. 
 
 257 
 
HELEN 
 
 Visibly affected both by Jean s correct conduct 
 and the prospect of a financial arrangement wel 
 come to one in his circumstances, the Marquis de 
 Tr6court felt it incumbent upon him to produce 
 corresponding advantages of his own. This he 
 proceeded to do with a certain fine condescension. 
 He pointed out that Jean had no debts, that he 
 had been singularly deficient in the irregularities 
 incident to his age. He even conveyed the impres 
 sion that it was easier to pardon irregularities of 
 this nature than to explain their absence. Jean 
 had inherited from his mother what it pleased 
 the Marquis to call a levity of disposition which, 
 however charming in a woman, had caused him 
 much anxiety; because, being constitutional and 
 persistent, it was more disheartening than a 
 merely temporary lapse with folly. If, without 
 passing through that morass in which men be 
 came entangled before establishing themselves all 
 the more firmly on the foundations of duty, he 
 should give evidence of recognizing the serious 
 ness of life and of conforming to the standards 
 of tradition, he, the Marquis, would be delighted. 
 Jean had now a career. It was a fitting moment 
 to consider the future and his obligations to so 
 ciety. He, the Marquis, would gladly ascertain to 
 what extent the sentiments of his son agreed with 
 those of Madame la Comtesse. Had she any rea 
 son to believe that mademoiselle would be favor 
 ably disposed? 
 
 258 
 
HELEN 
 
 Listening to these fine speeches with an equally 
 fine reserve and dignity, Madame de Chavigny 
 replied that she would lay his proposal before her 
 granddaughter. Having thus shifted the initia 
 tive from her own shoulders, she evaded further 
 insistence upon prudential questions by retreat 
 ing behind the person of Mr. Fearing. 
 
 "A fine prudence, forsooth," she said to her 
 self, "when all the honey is in one comb!" 
 
 On reaching Paris she passed by the Avenue 
 Montaigne to inform the Princess that the Mar 
 quis de Trecourt had asked the hand of Helen for 
 his son. 
 
 There remained the question of the immediate 
 future. On this question also she had made up her 
 mind while listening to Helen s confidences. Hav 
 ing been denied much happiness herself, she was 
 prodigal of that commodity for others. Notwith 
 standing the lateness of the hour, therefore, and 
 the fatigues of the day, still bent upon the pursuit 
 of happiness, from the Avenue Montaigne she 
 went to the Quai d Orsay. 
 
 Fortune smiled upon her. The Minister was in. 
 
 "To what god do I owe the honor of a visit 
 from you, dear madame?" said Coulomb, coming 
 to meet her with outstretched hands, and closing 
 behind her the door of the antechamber. 
 
 Madame de Chavigny, adjusting her mantle 
 and taking the proffered chair, seized the cue 
 promptly. 
 
 259 
 
HELEN 
 
 "To the god for whom even the portfolio of a 
 Minister is not sacred." 
 
 "Dear madame," said Coulomb evasively. 
 
 Undaunted in her pursuit of a thing so elusive 
 as happiness, Madame de Chavigny opened her 
 batteries at once. 
 
 "The Marquis de Trecourt has to-day asked 
 the hand of my granddaughter for his son " 
 
 "What! that charming person " 
 
 "But most unhappy," interrupted Madame de 
 Chavigny, for you take this occasion to exile 
 Jean de Trcourt to Corea. On what map I ask 
 myself is this Corea? For what interests of the 
 State is this young man so important to Corea 
 that hearts should suffer?" 
 
 The wrinkles of anxiety on Coulomb s forehead 
 were disappearing and those about the mouth 
 broke into a benevolent smile. 
 
 "My dear Countess," he implored, "not an 
 other word, I beg of you. What Louis XIV at 
 tempted to do with the Pyrenees on a like occa 
 sion we will do for Corea. It no longer exists." 
 
 "You promise me?" 
 
 "With all my heart. What you ask is nothing 
 a mere nothing." 
 
 "Far from it," she replied, resorting to her 
 handkerchief, as he bent over her hand; "I was 
 about to enter upon second childhood instead 
 of which you restore to me my youth." 
 
XXIX 
 
 THEY were all at the station. 
 
 Jack came with Helen. They had spent the 
 last night together. Important, like all departing 
 heroes, his spirits were high. While Helen was 
 verifying his various impedimenta in the com 
 partment, the others stood talking outside. 
 
 "For Heaven s sake, don t cry, Helen," said 
 Jack in a whisper. "And you need n t tell me 
 again to be good. I will if I can." 
 
 She kissed him once, twice. 
 
 " I wish it were Mr. Fearing instead of Jean," 
 he said between the kisses; "then you would be 
 going too." 
 
 "Don t tell that to Mr. Fearing, dear." 
 
 "I have." 
 
 "Jack!" 
 
 "Oh, he did n t mind," said Jack cheerfully. 
 
 When Helen came out Tatia dragged Dimitri 
 to the window and engaged Jack in an animated 
 conversation. 
 
 Helen and Fearing walked a little way down the 
 platform. He had not seen her since the yellow 
 pasteboard had fluttered from her pocket in the 
 Rue du Bac. It was necessary to say something. 
 
 "I wish you a great deal of happiness, Miss 
 Lee." 
 
 261 
 
HELEN 
 
 In spite of the sincerity, the words seemed 
 commonplace and the voice sounded hollow to 
 him. 
 
 "That s a long way off." However far away 
 it might be, the reality of it was in every elastic 
 step. " I think you might call me Helen to-day," 
 she said, looking up into his face. 
 
 "I would have liked to from the beginning." 
 
 She turned her face to his again. " Why did n t 
 you? You deserve a great deal more than that." 
 
 "I think, on the whole, I have been a little 
 afraid of you." 
 
 She laughed gayly. "Afraid of me! You! How 
 absurd!" 
 
 The guards were beginning to close the doors. 
 
 "We must not get too far away," he said, turn 
 ing. 
 
 Her face became grave again. "You will write 
 often Jack s letters will not tell all I want to 
 know " And, after a pause, "It is as impossible 
 for me to thank you as it was to give you that 
 louis. I am poorer now than I was then." 
 
 "Poor!" He checked himself. "Don t forget 
 how to make out your drafts," he said, laughing. 
 
 He had made the grave little mouth break into 
 a smile. She gave him her hand as he went up the 
 steps. Then the train began to move. 
 
 "Good-bye!" shouted Jack. His white hand 
 kerchief was fluttering at the window as long as 
 he could distinguish the red cloak on the receding 
 
 262 
 
HELEN 
 
 platform. Settling himself in his corner seat he 
 heaved a deep sigh of relief. " She s always game," 
 he said. "I was afraid she would cry. When do 
 we get to Calais?" 
 
 In the motor the Princess also was busy with a 
 handkerchief. Helen reached for her hand. 
 
 1 It s all right, Tatia dear. Jack s safe with 
 him." 
 
 Tatia choked back a sob and nodded. It would 
 never do for her to know ! 
 
 Tatia was wretchedly unhappy. Everything in 
 the world was going awry. What a pitiful thing 
 it was to live! Did God concern Himself about 
 anything? Who was responsible, if not Heaven, 
 for all this misery? Was any one happy? Not 
 Fearing, certainly, on the way to America, nor 
 Jean, on the way to Corea. Helen, then, with her 
 fine ideas of duty and conscience ! Bah ! Tatia s 
 ill-humor veered from Heaven to the solitary 
 woman in the Villa Fontana. From what other 
 source could such a black drop of conscience 
 come! 
 
 With every answer to her self-questionings her 
 ill-humor increased. Fearing was gone what 
 else could he do? Madame de Chavigny was leav 
 ing for the country had she not the right to 
 choose her own time? Helen accompanied her 
 was she to be censured for loving her grandmother? 
 The proposal of the Marquis de Trcourt had 
 
 263 
 
HELEN 
 
 been accepted was not that what she, Tatia, 
 had desired? Who would have thought that 
 Fearing, that man of pure business Tatia 
 drew a profound sigh. 
 
 Having deposited Helen and Madame de Cha- 
 vigny in the Rue du Bac, the motor went on to the 
 Avenue Montaigne. A mournful atmosphere of 
 vacancy and depression pervaded the apartment. 
 One glance at the empty seat behind the samovar 
 completed the deception. It was no longer home. 
 She ordered the motor again and went to the 
 Embassy. 
 
 Alexis, in the private room of the Chancellerie, 
 looked up from his papers with surprise. 
 
 "Why, Tatia," he exclaimed, "at this hour!" 
 
 "I am not welcome?" she asked irritably. 
 
 "On the contrary, the more so because unex 
 pected. What can I do for you?" 
 
 "A cup of tea, and company." 
 
 Alexis smiled. He said to himself that handing 
 over Helen to her rightful owner had not im 
 proved his cousin s temper. He drew his chair 
 beside her and rang for tea. 
 
 "So Madame de Chavigny is going into the 
 country." 
 
 Tatia nodded. "But why so early?" 
 
 " Did you expect her to wait for the culmination 
 of the social season?" she asked sarcastically. 
 
 "But, my dear Tatia, the crocuses are not yet 
 out." 
 
 264 
 
HELEN 
 
 "When you are seventy, my dear Alexis, you 
 will not wait for the crocuses." 
 
 "Seventy-three," he corrected. 
 
 "Besides," she went on with a scornful disre 
 gard for accuracy, "when one has waited till 
 seventy to taste happiness one becomes greedy." 
 
 "Seventy-three, think of it! What you say is 
 quite just. I compliment you on your generosity, 
 Tatia, though you might display it more gra 
 ciously." 
 
 "I am not seventy, and I am not generous." 
 
 Alexis smiled again. 
 
 " If we could but ring up the curtain as they do 
 at the theatre," she sighed, "and say, two years 
 are supposed to have elapsed." 
 
 "Heavens! Tatia, what a spendthrift you are! 
 Do be less reckless with the years, I implore you. 
 You married women amaze me. You know very 
 well that when the fairy tale ends the real story 
 begins yet you are not afraid." 
 
 Tatia gave her cousin her smile of superior wis 
 dom. "I do not pretend to rival you in experi 
 ence, Alexis, but there are things of which you 
 are ignorant." 
 
 It occurred to him to retort that there were 
 others of which she knew nothing, but for the mo 
 ment he contented himself with thinking it. 
 
 "Well, I am going," she said, sighing again. 
 "Will you tell Dimitri I am here?" 
 
 "One moment, please. We were speaking of 
 265 
 
HELEN 
 
 things of which we are ignorant. Yesterday I was 
 at the Foreign Office. It was the day for ambas 
 sadors. It seems it was the day for exceptional 
 visitors also. There were five of us in the ante 
 chamber. Who is with His Excellency? I asked. 
 They shrugged their shoulders after the manner 
 of ambassadors jealous of their prerogatives. 
 Presently the usher threw open the door and 
 announced me. A thousand pardons for keeping 
 you waiting/ Coulomb said to me. Do not speak 
 of it, I replied; I came only to pay my respects, 
 and as I have left four of my colleagues yonder 
 Sit down/ he said, laughing; I have something 
 to confide to you in fact a confession, a State 
 secret/ Now you know, Tatia, the joy of receiv 
 ing a secret consists chiefly in sharing it." 
 
 Tatia pricked up her ears. 
 
 " Do you remember/ he began, that young 
 man of whom we were speaking lately at the Prin 
 cess s dinner? Tr6court/ I replied; certainly/ 
 It appears that he is in love with that young 
 person who sat beside him at the far end of the 
 table/ Precisely/ I said; the granddaughter 
 of Madame de Chavigny/ It was Madame de 
 Chavigny/ he said, waving his hand in the direc 
 tion of the ante-room, who just now kept the 
 representatives of five Great Powers waiting, and 
 who, before leaving, extracted from me the prom 
 ise to recall this young dog from Corea Egypt 
 wherever he may be and while listening to 
 
 266 
 
HELEN 
 
 her I saw constantly that charming face, so fresh, 
 and so troubled, between the flowers and cande 
 labra at the end of the Princess s table. Some 
 times he carried his hand to his head with a 
 gesture of weariness l sometimes one receives 
 an impression for which one cannot account 
 a strain of music, a passing perfume ; and just now, 
 while Madame de Chavigny was speaking to me, 
 it was the voice of that troubled face which I 
 heard speaking, not hers and there came to me 
 in this room where I was waiting for you a vision 
 of past days, when I was young, of things for 
 gotten, the songs of nightingales, the scent of 
 new-mown hay and I promised. Positively, 
 Tatia, it was extraordinary. I was dumb with 
 astonishment. You know how corpulent he is, 
 how his fat fingers tap listlessly on the table. At 
 last I managed to say, You did well. Of what 
 importance to Corea is Monsieur de Trecourt? 
 You yourself told me None, he said, none 
 whatever but I wish to think that I did what 
 I have done because of that troubled face I saw 
 among the flowers at the end of the table. How 
 many, do you say, are in the antechamber? I 
 pressed his hand and came away in silence." 
 
 He touched the bell on the desk. "Say to the 
 Prince his carriage is waiting." 
 
 Speechless, Tatia had the appearance of a child 
 about to cry. 
 
 "Now we see," he smiled, "why Madame de 
 
 267 
 
HELEN 
 
 Chavigny does not wait for the crocuses. I am 
 convinced that down there in Touraine she is 
 preparing one of those surprises which do not 
 depend upon the season." 
 
 He put his finger to his lips for silence as Dimi- 
 tri entered. "Dimitri excepted, naturally," he 
 said. 
 
 If the slips of yellow pasteboard floating idly 
 in the current along the curbing could have told 
 their story, various mysteries on Tatia s horizon 
 would have been cleared away. Neither Helen s 
 rebuff nor Jean s avowal of discomfiture had 
 shaken the tenacity of her intuitions. She was not 
 in the least surprised by Madame de Chavigny s 
 announcement, but she was mystified. There was 
 one very simple way of solving the mystery, and 
 in the first outburst of feeling she had very nearly 
 sought illumination at the source itself. But 
 Helen, less accessible than in the days of the Villa 
 Fontana, furnished none of those enlightening 
 details for which she hungered. She had met 
 Tatia s advances with the old naive frankness, a 
 frankness, however, tempered by an equally 
 naive reserve. The Princess had not forgotten 
 that she had recently broken into that reserve 
 with disastrous results. Profoundly ignorant as 
 she was of the gust of passion in the Lyons sta 
 tion, she was not the less convinced that some 
 thing had changed a girl into a woman. 
 
 Returning from the Embassy, she also was a 
 268 
 
HELENA 
 
 changed person swept by the desire to fly then 
 and there into Helen s arms instead of which 
 she asked Dimitri if he could keep a secret, and 
 acquainted him with her cousin s method of en 
 joying one. 
 
XXX 
 
 THE tide of life flowing past the terrace at Shep- 
 heard s was at its full, for it was the tea-hour. 
 Moreover, the end of the season was drawing near 
 and the prey was about to escape. Every vender 
 of spurious antiquities, every snake-charmer, 
 juggler, and lier-in-wait for piastres who could 
 escape the fire-carriage of the infidel and elude the 
 vigilance of the solitary guardian of the peace 
 assigned to the maintenance of circulation along 
 the terrace rail was at his post, eloquent of speech 
 and eye and resplendent in local color. 
 
 Against all these attractions the guests about 
 Mrs. Stuart s table were proof. She herself had 
 long since graduated from the vulgar interest in 
 all that constitutes the charm for the Cairo tourist. 
 Her present interest was the young officer on the 
 Sirdar s staff, the English doctor and his wife 
 from Gezireh, an archaeologist from the Sudan, 
 and the French Diplomatic Agent, her afternoon 
 guests. All these people had also acquired that 
 indifference to local color which distinguishes the 
 resident from the travelling guild. So the local 
 color, ebbing and flowing under the terrace rail 
 ing, in wise recognition of unlawful prey, left 
 them in tranquillity. 
 
 In white from head to foot, her blue eyes very 
 
 270 
 
HELEN 
 
 much alive, Mrs. Stuart was exhibiting a sapphire 
 bracelet which the Ceylon merchant in the hotel 
 corridor had insisted she should keep, "just to 
 look at," overnight. 
 
 "He knows very well I am going up the river 
 to-morrow," she was saying. 
 : "Are n t you rather late in starting, Mrs. Stu 
 art?" asked the young officer. 
 
 "Oh, no, I m going to be towed, anyway. The 
 crowd will be gone. I Ve seen all the stuffy monu 
 ments, you know. It s sunsets I am after, and 
 peace, before the London season." She held the 
 bracelet up to the light. "I really don t want it. 
 He asks three hundred pounds for it. What do 
 you think?" 
 
 "It s a jolly good color," said the officer, "and 
 a jolly good price. You won t get it for less, mind 
 you. These Ceylon beggars have got the prix 
 fixe into their heads and won t be budged an 
 inch." 
 
 Mrs. Stuart laughed. "But it is pretty. I 
 wonder if it is really worth it." 
 
 Just then a messenger from the office whispered 
 something to the doctor, who rose, excusing him 
 self, and went into the hotel. 
 
 "Doctors have no rest," remarked his wife. 
 "It s a villainous profession." 
 
 Mrs. Stuart dropped the sapphires in her lap. 
 "I wish I knew how many flaws there are in the 
 stones. Three hundred is such a lot." 
 
 271 
 
HELEN 
 
 The "just to look at" potion was beginning to 
 work. 
 
 The archaeologist took out his pocket micro 
 scope, the band struck in, and conversation ceased. 
 
 Presently came back the doctor. 
 
 Mrs. Stuart looked up smiling. "You were n t 
 long, were you. I have just ordered a fresh brew 
 and hot toast." 
 
 But he did not sit down. He pushed a card 
 over to the French Agent. " It s one of your peo 
 ple," he said laconically. 
 
 * Trecourt ! What s wrong with him ? Why, he 
 was at the Agency this morning enquiring for 
 letters." 
 
 " He ought to have been in bed long ago, for 
 that matter," was the dry reply. 
 
 "And he is sailing for the East by the next 
 steamer." 
 
 "You can cancel his booking without risk. 
 He s going to-night to the hospital." 
 
 Mrs. Stuart sat up suddenly, her blue eyes di 
 lating, and reached for the card. 
 
 "Trecourt! You don t mean Jean de Tr6court! 
 Why, I know him intimately" in moments of 
 excitement Mrs. Stuart paid scant regard to strict 
 accuracy "he s engaged to one of my dearest 
 friends. I have just had a cable announcing the 
 engagement." 
 
 "I am sorry," said the doctor; "I mean I am 
 sorry to think you are off to-morrow. A woman 
 
 272 
 
HELEN 
 
 friend is a good thing for a man in a Cairo hos 
 pital to have." 
 
 Mrs. Stuart did not stop to think twice. The 
 good like the evil in her bubbled up instantly. 
 
 "I shall do nothing of the sort. I would n t 
 think of leaving. You don t mean " She looked 
 up anxiously. 
 
 "My dear lady, I can tell you better what I 
 mean to-morrow. If you like I will call in the 
 morning." 
 
 He held out his hand, and the party broke up. 
 
 "Nothing serious?" said the French Agent, in 
 terrogatively, to the doctor as they went down the 
 steps together. 
 
 "Typhoid s always a worry," was the reply. 
 
 The following morning, and thereafter, Mrs. 
 Stuart rode roughshod over hospital rules and 
 regulations. It were unkind to trace the thread of 
 motive in the web of her procedure. The English 
 doctor saw only the quick decision, the instant 
 sacrifice of personal plans. Being quick of decision 
 himself, and warm-hearted under a cold exterior, 
 he admired Mrs. Stuart greatly for what he told 
 his wife was "a fine piece of work," and winked 
 at the disregard of rule. Mrs. Stuart loved the 
 approbation and admiration of others. It was 
 far dearer to her than her own. If ultimately the 
 approval of conscience added its tonic contribu 
 tion, so much the better. It could not fairly be 
 said to be the inspiring motive. Nor was it alto- 
 
 273 
 
HELEN 
 
 gether a pose. Having seen what was the heroic 
 thing to do, she seized upon it, and immediately 
 lost herself in her r61e perhaps, too, found her 
 self, the inherent good slumbering under the crust 
 of her social code. 
 
 The man who had bored her so in the Avenue 
 Montaigne was astonished to see this dainty fig 
 ure in white installed at his bedside. She had to 
 remind him where he had seen her before, to make 
 clear the reasons for her presence. They were not 
 very clear to him, but he was hot, tired, lonely, 
 and reasoning was an effort. Gradually his first 
 shrinking yielded to her cool presence, to the wo 
 man in her which was not in the nurse, to the 
 appeal of the sympathy he could not wholly ac 
 count for, but which, at any rate, was not profes 
 sional. Then, too, she was a tie with the past, and 
 her face melted into one he dreamed of when sink 
 ing into the hollows of feverish sleep. 
 
 Night and morning he asked wistfully for the 
 mail, and night and morning Mrs. Stuart, on 
 her way to and from the hospital, called at the 
 Agency. She was rewarded at last one evening 
 by a letter with a Paris postmark, and late though 
 it was, drove back to deliver it with her own 
 hand. 
 
 He held it, unopened, under his pillow. She 
 read the gratitude in the hollow eyes and left 
 him, tactfully, firm in the belief that it was more 
 than any prescription. He read it, a sentence now 
 
 274 
 
HELEN 
 
 and then, in the night watches, when the nurse, 
 busy with other duties, gave him opportunity, 
 scorning the reason and seeing only the love. Its 
 radiance blinded him it was too wonderful 
 all the rest pure waste of ink. Through the long 
 night, between the snatches of fitful sleep, tossed, 
 like a ship adrift, on the tides of love and reason, 
 he strove with what he should say, what he should 
 write, to-morrow, when he was stronger, holding 
 fast the wandering thoughts always slipping away 
 into nothingness. It was enough that she should 
 ask. How could he resist her who had both love 
 and reason on her side how, if he did not obey 
 her now, could he persuade her that he would 
 obey her hereafter what else was this appeal to 
 reason but the measure of her self-sacrificing love 
 no he would not permit it he would be a 
 boy no more master 
 
 When morning came he found a hand fast in 
 his, and drew away, flushing. 
 
 "I thought it was the lever," he whispered, "I 
 was flying." 
 
 Madge spoke up promptly, authoritatively, 
 with a forced bravado and a brave smile, meeting 
 his searching eyes unflinchingly the assenting 
 eyes of the stricken who has no strength for use 
 less argument. "He knows," she thought. She 
 could have kissed him, the mother in her near to 
 getting the upper hand. 
 
 Jim had always said, "No kids for me!" and 
 
 275 
 
HELEN 
 
 she had acquiesced. Driving out to Gezireh, for 
 she had missed the doctor s morning call, she 
 wondered. 
 
 The doctor came down to the gate. 
 
 "No, I won t get out," she said. "I wanted 
 the air, and to be stiffened up a bit. Can t you 
 do it?" 
 
 "There s a trite saying about hope and life" 
 he paused a moment "I wish I could." 
 
 "He had a letter last night, Doctor. I thought 
 it might save him." 
 
 "Yes, I know they do, in some cases. "\ 
 
 Her voice broke. "You mean it has happened 
 
 what you feared?" 
 
 "Yes," he said; "it has happened." 
 So the day dreaded came. She was there, calm 
 and dry-eyed, as usual. 
 
 "There is nothing more I can do, Mrs. Stuart 
 
 nor you," she heard the doctor saying. "You 
 had better go." 
 
 She gave him a reproachful look. He beckoned 
 her aside. 
 
 "It s ghastly," he said. "They had a message 
 at the Agency last night a telegram recalling 
 him some billet in the Foreign Office. It s just 
 as well he never knew. Who was it dreamed that 
 all the unfulfilled hopes of his life came like birds 
 and perched upon his coffin?" 
 
 An hour later she was driving back alone to 
 Shepheard s, crying softly to herself, Helen s let- 
 
 276 
 
HELEN 
 
 ter in her hand, while the dragoman on the box 
 called his warning "Oo-ah! Oo-ah!" 
 
 In her own room again, she dismissed the maid 
 and, turning up the lowered night lamp, unfolded 
 the crumpled letter. She knew very well that 
 what she was doing was a shameful thing, yet she 
 read it through, without compunction, from be 
 ginning to end with tears that helped to wash out 
 the shame. The tears and the shame she under 
 stood, but they did not trouble her. A happiness, 
 causeless, unaccountable, stirred in her breast, 
 feelings long strangers to her, of envy for all she 
 had thought to despise, of remorse for all she had 
 counted no sin, of disgust for all that had been her 
 pride, of yearning for what she had spurned and 
 missed. They welled up like a fountain, obliter 
 ating even what she had just passed through 
 Jean s face, the silent few about the bed, the hor 
 rible hospital odor setting her face to the future, 
 flooding her whole being with the light of a new 
 dawn. In that light all her wretched little world 
 seemed to shrivel up and disappear. She found 
 herself thinking confusedly of Jim, of the world 
 she had dreamed of when a girl. It still existed. By 
 some miracle it was coming to meet her with its 
 forgotten promises and hopes. Thank God, they 
 had not come too late to perch upon her coffin lid. 
 She was alive, in her warm bed, and despite the 
 tears and the shame and the violated letter under 
 her pillow, she smiled in her sleep. 
 
 277 
 
HELEN 
 
 In the morning she wrote Jim she was coming 
 home. 
 
 Jim was amazed. The abandoned dahabiyeh 
 lying provisioned above the Nile Bridge repre 
 sented such a lot of wasted money, and feminine 
 caprice ! 
 
XXXI 
 
 THERE was something sweet and wholesome about 
 the small house, for small it was in comparison 
 with its princely neighbors, though known in the 
 near-by cluster of cottages as the chateau/ 
 Boasting neither legends nor history, only age, no 
 tourists invaded its seclusion, and like the little 
 village, too insignificant to be found on the maps, 
 it was unknown to the guidebooks. Hidden be 
 hind the screen of trees standing guard along its 
 high encircling wall, travellers on the main road 
 passed it by, unsuspecting, and only to the cow 
 herd in the pastures beyond the river was it visible 
 through the opening of the sycamores a white 
 patch against the green background. 
 
 Regularly once a year it shook itself from its 
 torpor, opened wide its shutters, and became 
 distinctly animate. And regularly once a year, 
 when Madame la Comtesse rumbled away behind 
 the stout draft horses to the railway station, it 
 shut its eyes for the long nap of winter. 
 
 Helen fell in love with it at first sight. After 
 Paris, the endless round of visits, the wearisome 
 formalities of society, the never-ending roar of 
 the sleepless streets, to open her window to the 
 young buds on the climbing vines, to the glint of 
 the river beyond which the cattle were browsing 
 
 279 
 
HELEN 
 
 on the level meadows, was enchantment. Below, 
 the balustrade of the terrace guarded the door 
 from too instant intrusion, and three steps led 
 down to the straight path dividing the lawn and 
 inviting her to come with it to the murmuring 
 river. 
 
 Because there was nothing to remind her of the 
 Villa Fontana, she was constantly thinking of it. 
 Contrast was more effective than resemblance in 
 awakening memory. What different things in the 
 same liquid language with which the blue sea had 
 talked to the oleanders the river was saying to the 
 sycamores. Neither Africa nor Asia had contrib 
 uted anything to the homely garden where Ma 
 dame de Chavigny, the very morning after their 
 arrival, was pruning the budding rose-trees under 
 her broad-brimmed hat. Everything was in its 
 own place which would have pleased Mr. Fear 
 ing ! and everywhere was a brooding sense of 
 friendliness. 
 
 Except for Jack, who was not wholly satisfying, 
 and the occasional irruptions of Tatia, she had 
 been alone in the Villa Fontana. It was no hard 
 ship now to be alone. There was always the path 
 beckoning her into the future as the path from the 
 three steps beckoned her to the river. Separation 
 becomes a real pain only after fruition. To her, 
 as to her grandmother, life had become infinitely 
 precious for one to lavish freely, for the other 
 to treasure niggardly. And of all the contrasts 
 
 280 
 
HELEN 
 
 Madame de Chavigny in her rose-garden was the 
 greatest. How tiresome it had been to make the 
 grand round in the villas! "Helen," said Madame 
 de Chavigny, looking up from her rose-tree, the 
 scissors in her gloved hand, "how is it possible not 
 to miss you!" Helen wondered. 
 
 The letter that came from Tatia, spiced with 
 gossip, antidote for monotony, was wasted sym 
 pathy. "Do not worry about me, Tatia," she 
 wrote in reply, "I am quite happy." 
 
 There had been duties in the Villa Fontana. But 
 for Jack and Helen, the Villa Fontana was all 
 duty, and it had never ceased to reach out its 
 ghostly hand in its old compelling way. For it 
 was a duty, that weekly letter, the only task left 
 in the present. She had often asked herself 
 whether it was worth the effort, whether happi 
 ness was a welcome offering on the villa altar, and 
 had tried to soften and subdue its expression. To 
 keep both happiness and duty out of a letter was 
 not easy. There were times, too, when she wished 
 her grandmother was even more sparing of the 
 stray words of endearment scattered haphazard 
 through her replies unwilling guests that spoke 
 their lines haltingly,; and sometimes a sentence 
 brought a smile: "Monsieur Hermite still en 
 quires for you." "We are having much trouble 
 with a disease in the Picea Pungens from Colo 
 rado." 
 
 It was easier to chronicle her day for Tatia s 
 281 
 
HELEN 
 
 benefit, though there was little to record a 
 stately visit from stately neighbors, a morning 
 walk through clumps of chestnuts and patches of 
 vineyard to the crooked streets of the village, a 
 chat with the women knitting in the sun of the 
 doorways or thumping the linen on the flat coping 
 of the fountain, and when the weather was fine 
 a longer excursion in the motor; for Peter had 
 inspired such confidence that the heavy draft 
 horses and lumbering coach were daily growing 
 heavier and sleeker and more lumbering than 
 ever. 
 
 But it was neither the letter from Tatia nor the 
 Villa Fontana that she looked for when listening 
 to the click of the gardener s sabots returning 
 from the village post-office. What would his an 
 swer be? Did she really wish him to yield to rea 
 son? Sometimes, sitting under the sycamores 
 listening to the river-talk, a pang of rebellious 
 unreason shot through the heart of her joy, echo 
 of some cave woman carried away through the 
 forest when reason was not yet born and passion 
 was omnipotent. It was a transient pang, not even 
 accorded acknowledgment, as foolish as Jack s 
 threat to emulate Lochinvar. Dear Jack what 
 a silly boy he was! 
 
 And all this while Madame de Chavigny was 
 silently renewing her youth, biding her time, 
 awaiting the day she had planned for, when Jean 
 should come, and from her window she should 
 
 282 
 
HELEN 
 
 see two dear forms walking down the path to the 
 sycamores to confer together, and all these per 
 plexing questions should be settled forever. 
 
 Then, one evening, answering Jacques s cry of 
 terror, Helen rushed to her grandmother s room. 
 She was sitting in her chair, ready for bed, a tele 
 gram in her fallen hand. 
 
 Local science pronounced it heart-failure 
 and so, in truth, it was. 
 
BOOK III 
 
XXXII 
 
 "JACK, you must have another pair of riding- 
 breeches those are disgraceful." 
 
 Stretched full length on the thin brown grass, 
 Jack rolled over lazily. Although unable to sur 
 vey the offending parts, he admitted that they 
 were "rather far gone; but," he added ruefully, 
 "they will have to go till next pay-day." 
 
 " Is Mr. Fearing as strict as that? " asked Helen. 
 
 "It is n t up to Mr. Fearing; it s up to me," 
 replied Jack. "After we agreed on what was a 
 fair allowance he had nothing more to do with it. 
 I found that out when we had our first dance at 
 school. I had to have some gloves, but I was 
 broke so I had them charged. They sent the 
 bill to Mr. Fearing and he would n t pay it. I 
 told him I had to have them. He said no one had 
 to have luxuries he could n t pay for." 
 
 Helen laughed. "What do you do when you go 
 over to see that pretty girl at the Rosario ranch?" 
 she asked, surveying the demoralized breeches. 
 
 "I sit tight and I back out," said Jack grimly. 
 
 There was nothing anywhere in sight except the 
 low fringe of cottonwoods where the river ran, 
 and in the west, if one shaded one s eyes and 
 looked hard, the faint blur of smoke marking the 
 spot which Jack called home. It was home to 
 
 287 
 
HELEN 
 
 her now. She had learned to love it. All the tur 
 moil of the world, even its pain, was lost in these 
 wide, silent expanses. Somewhere beyond that 
 horizon melting into the level plain was Tatia, 
 the white chateau facing the meadows, its shut 
 ters closed now, and olives and oleanders beside 
 the blue sea all distinct, but unbelievable, like 
 the vision of some other incarnation opening in a 
 dream. 
 
 "Do you think Mr. Fearing would disapprove 
 if I made you a present of a pair?" 
 
 "Approve! You haven t got to get his ap 
 proval." 
 
 No, she knew that. 
 
 "Besides," Jack went on, unmindful of what 
 he suggested, "when he sent me a whole box of 
 gloves Christmas and I told him I did n t see the 
 difference between that and paying the bill, he 
 said, business and sentiment must be kept strictly 
 apart. Couldn t you charge them to sentiment?" 
 
 Helen made no reply. She was thinking how 
 little he had ever kept business and sentiment 
 apart since that first day when he took Jack s 
 hand walking to the St. Louis bridge of how 
 little, too, she had cared then for any one s ap 
 proval but her own. 
 
 "Could n t you?" 
 
 She stopped thinking. "There is n t a great 
 deal of sentiment in a pair of riding-breeches," 
 she said, coming back to the present. 
 
 288 
 
HELEN 
 
 "I wish he were here," muttered Jack irrele 
 vantly. 
 
 "Am I such a poor substitute?" 
 
 He thought a moment before answering. 
 "You re a good thing, Helen, but you re not the 
 same thing." 
 
 She laughed once more, this time at his candor. 
 "You have changed since you threatened to carry 
 me off like Lochinvar do you remember?" 
 
 "I don t believe I ever said anything so silly," 
 he retorted. 
 
 "Oh, yes you did. You should n t forget what 
 you say to ladies. Do you forget what you say to 
 the young lady over at Rosario, too?" 
 
 Jack flushed. "Helen, you are getting to be a 
 regular tease. Who is there but Hilda to ride 
 with!" 
 
 "No one but me which, however good a 
 thing, is n t the same thing, is it?" 
 
 Jack became suddenly sober. "Don t you 
 think Hilda is rather nice?" 
 
 "Very." 
 
 There was a pause. He seemed unable to fol 
 low up the admission, though it evidently gave him 
 pleasure. Looking down at the boy sprawling at 
 her feet, his sunburned face turned to the sky, she 
 tried to picture that other boy in knickerbockers 
 with whom she used to play in the flowered paths 
 of the Villa Fontana. Ages past, those days! 
 When they spoke of them it was as of another 
 
 289 
 
HELEN 
 
 existence. But changed as he was, he was the 
 same frank, affectionate Jack. 
 
 Of course she was only teasing, though she 
 meant what she had said. Hilda was nice. Her 
 family was of Danish origin, but Hilda, born in 
 the foothills of the Rockies, was unmistakably 
 American, a native graft on the old stock, hardy 
 as the silver firs, with the color of the ruby king 
 lets in her cheeks. She had been away visiting 
 relatives during Helen s first summer on the 
 ranch, and only of late had any relations been 
 established between "Rosario" and "Fearing s." 
 Even in these outskirts of civilization it was tac 
 itly understood that while the inmates of " Fear- 
 ing s" were no better than any one else, there was 
 a difference. Invisible barriers of this sort, how 
 ever, were nothing to Jack. 
 
 There had been a mail that morning and among 
 its letters was one from Tatia, now in long- 
 coveted Petersburg one of Tatia s searching, 
 probing letters straight from the heart and taking 
 many things for granted. "One s best posses 
 sions," she wrote, "are a dreadful drag. If it were 
 not for that Jack of yours you would be with me 
 here in Petersburg, and but for this Dimitri of 
 mine I should be in the saddle with you on the 
 plains but, otherwise, your America is no place 
 for me. It s for the young or the rich I am 
 neither, and you, alas! are both. What are you 
 going to do with yourself when summer is over 
 
 290 
 
HELEN 
 
 and Jack goes back to school?" It was exuber 
 ance of life chiefly, rather than tact, which kept 
 all allusions to the past out of Tatia s letters. Her 
 eyes were always on the future. 
 
 What was she going to do when the summer 
 was over? 
 
 "Jack." 
 
 The seriousness in her voice made him look 
 up. 
 
 Have you ever thought of what you are to do 
 when you are a man after college, I mean?" 
 
 The answer came prompt and masterful. 
 "Look after you." 
 
 "Yes, dear, I understand that." It always 
 pleased her to find herself first in his thought. 
 Just now hers had wandered back to Hilda. "But 
 some day I shall not be enough. Some day you 
 will marry and have a home of your own." 
 
 When translated into words her thought star 
 tled her. She was not thinking of Hilda specifi 
 cally now. Hilda was even more of a child than 
 Jack, and had only started a train of thought. 
 The possibility it first had hinted seemed so bald 
 when spoken! too momentous and too ridicu 
 lously distant for discussion. To her relief it made 
 no impression on Jack. 
 
 "That won t make any difference," he said care 
 lessly, "any more than if you did." And both 
 contingencies glided from his mind as too remote 
 for serious consideration. "When I get through 
 
 291 
 
HELEN 
 
 school Mr. Fearing says I can go into the office 
 for a year till I get my bearings." 
 
 " Would you like to ?" 
 
 "Well, I ve got to learn how to take care of 
 your money. A woman can t do that, and you 
 can t expect Mr. Fearing to be doing it forever." 
 
 "Did Mr. Fearing say that?" 
 
 "No, but he said a year of business training 
 before college was worth two after. Come," he 
 said, getting up and shaking the sand from his 
 clothes, "we had better be starting for home or 
 we shall be late to supper." 
 
 He gave her his hand, swinging her lightly to 
 her saddle, and the ponies shuffled off in their 
 foxtrot, breaking finally into a gallop. 
 
 "I remember," he laughed as they pulled up, 
 the ponies panting, at a prairie pool, "you turned 
 up your nose at grub when you first came out last 
 year. Now you grovel for it like the rest of us." 
 
 She smiled assent, out of breath, her cheeks hot 
 with the long run, the wind in her blowing hair. 
 She was hungry. 
 
 As they neared the ranch among the cotton- 
 woods and willows, the dogs gave them welcome, 
 sniffing suspiciously at the ponies heels and lying 
 down again satisfied. There was barely time to 
 get out of her riding-clothes before supper was 
 ready. 
 
 During this process her thought reverted to 
 Tatia s letter, to its closing and only reference to 
 
 292 
 
HELEN 
 
 Mr. Fearing. " I assume he is alive," Tatia wrote, 
 "though you make no mention of the fact and he 
 never writes. He evidently assumes we are dead " 
 Tatia was prodigal with underlining emphasis. 
 "If by any chance you should see him in the 
 course of your business relations, say to him I 
 am willing to forgive his neglect and inconsiderate 
 behavior at the first sign of repentance." 
 
 Inconsiderate! How little Tatia knew! In 
 those days of misery when her one longing had 
 been for Jack, she had cabled him. The answer 
 came back: "All preparations made. Cable 
 steamer." Jack was on the ranch then, but he 
 was waiting for her on the dock, and they left to 
 gether, they two alone, the same day for the West. 
 It was all exactly as she had wished. The wound 
 was raw then, and he had not touched it. 
 
 Neglect! Jack himself was astonished at certain 
 transformations at the ranch wrought in his brief 
 absence. Before sitting down to supper she made 
 a mental catalogue of facts wherewith to refute 
 Tatia s unjust allegations. They were about her 
 on every side. She had dismounted at the broad 
 verandah added to the ranch the year before. 
 She had had her plunge in the deep swimming- 
 pool among the box alders where a screen had 
 been arranged for her special use. And she was 
 dressing in the master s room, somewhat incon 
 gruously adorned with feminine chintz and mas 
 culine game trophies. There was other material 
 
 293 
 
HELEN 
 
 in plenty for Tatia almost too much. To-night 
 its volume oppressed her, as if it were something 
 its recipient should be ashamed to acknowledge, 
 and sitting out on the verandah after Jack had 
 gone to bed she decided that Tatia s charges were 
 too absurd for refutation which was a great 
 disappointment to Tatia. 
 
 Curled up asleep after their evening meal, the 
 dogs were so many dark patches at her feet. They 
 were very friendly with her, though behaving 
 scandalously with each other. She knew them all 
 individually, distinct as each was in canine char 
 acteristics. Her favorite, proud of his distinction, 
 had his head at that moment on her foot, as if 
 conscious of protection from his wiser brethren. 
 Jack had named him Clown, for he was a young 
 dog with much to learn, and the occasional whine 
 with which he answered the wail of a prowling 
 coyote was proof that he had not yet mastered 
 interest for the lesser game his elders had been 
 taught to despise. He had no scars to show as they 
 had, but a twitching limb and low growl told he 
 was already earning them in his dreams. 
 
 What was she going to do with the coming 
 winter? It was not so far away now. The grass 
 was drying up, the flowers were gone, the songs 
 of the mocking-birds and rose finches in the river 
 bottom were over, the plain, flooded by the moon, 
 would soon be white with snow, and at night the 
 north wind from the dark line of pifions and 
 
 294 
 
HELEN 
 
 cedars on the far slopes of the foothills sounded 
 its crisp note of warning. Last year, when the 
 season ended, she had taken a furnished house 
 with her English maid in the village near Jack s 
 school. That did not appeal to her now, though 
 she felt she must be near Jack. The years had 
 wrought their change in her. A stronger pulse 
 throbbed in her veins. She would have liked to 
 stay where she was, but without Jack that was 
 impossible. Dear possessions, as Tatia had said, 
 made a difference. 
 
 In her lap was another letter, from Mrs. Stuart, 
 who had taken a house-boat in Florida for the 
 winter and begged her to join their " strictly fam 
 ily party." By far the greater part of this letter 
 was devoted to the news of the arrival of a little 
 girl. "She is a perfect darling," Madge wrote, 
 "and we want to name her Helen" for occult 
 reasons not committed to paper "do you 
 mind?" No, Helen did not mind. She had no 
 intention of accepting the invitation to Florida, 
 but she had changed the opinion she had formed 
 of Mrs. Stuart that day at Celestin s. Madge had 
 written on her return from Egypt offering to come 
 to Touraine "if desired"; otherwise she would 
 send certain things she thought belonged to her, 
 Helen, rather than to Monsieur de Trecourt s 
 family. It was the first intimation Helen had had 
 of the part Mrs. Stuart had played in Cairo, and 
 she had said, "Come"; not so much because of 
 
 295 
 
HELEN 
 
 anything in Mrs. Stuart s letter as of some very 
 flattering things the English doctor had written 
 about her praise which would have gratified 
 that lady greatly had she been privileged to 
 read it. 
 
 There had been nothing offensive or obtrusive 
 about her visitor. She had not offered any con 
 solation, or descanted on the healing properties of 
 time, or referred, as the Villa Fontana did, to the 
 mysterious ways of an overruling Providence. 
 She had simply and naturally told the things 
 Helen wanted to hear. 
 
 Helen had been prepared by the doctor s letter 
 to receive Mrs. Stuart kindly, and Madge was 
 the only person in the world who could tell her all 
 she longed to know the woman who had stood 
 in her place. But she was not prepared for the 
 transformation of the shallow, pert visitor of the 
 Avenue Montaigne into this friend whose sincer 
 ity and comprehending reserves disarmed any 
 dread she had felt in looking forward to this inter 
 view. Madge seemed to have undergone a moral 
 regeneration. How or why it had come to pass 
 Helen did not in the least understand. They had 
 sat together a long hour under the sycamores, and 
 after Madge had gone, she found in the sealed 
 envelope the "certain things" her own letter 
 to Jean and a few withered violets. She under 
 stood no better now, as the memory of that hour 
 came back to her over the years, but it touched 
 
 296 
 
HELEN 
 
 her that this woman whom she had misjudged, 
 who had stood by his bedside and ministered in 
 her stead, should wish to link her with her own 
 intimate life through her child. How little, after 
 all, she thought, we know each other or our 
 selves. 
 
 Presently, from around the corner of the ranch 
 came Stone, the manager. He veered away on 
 seeing her, but she called to him, and he sat down 
 on the edge of the verandah. The night was 
 growing chilly, and his buckskin jacket was but 
 toned to the throat. Buttoning and unbuttoning 
 this jacket, or loosening and tightening the blue 
 spotted handkerchief knotted at his throat, were 
 the only visible changes in his toilet she had ever 
 been able to discover. 
 
 "You need n t give up your pipe, Stone," she 
 said, "I like it. It won t be long before we are 
 leaving you." 
 
 "No, marm, and the best of the year com 
 ing." 
 
 " Is it? I really should like to stay and see." 
 
 "There s nothing to hinder at this end, Miss 
 Lee. We could make you as comfortable as a 
 kitten by the fire." 
 
 He spoke quite confidently, as if weather were 
 the only consideration. 
 
 "You see Jack must be back for school." 
 
 Instantly Stone saw a boy on a revolving stool 
 at a high desk. 
 
 297 
 
HELEN 
 
 "Which is cruelty to animals," he remarked 
 laconically. 
 
 "But Jack has to be something more than an 
 animal," laughed Helen. 
 
 Stone smoked on reflectively. "I ve lived 
 among em most of my life," he said at length, 
 "and as between the general run of men, of what 
 you might call civilized men," he qualified, "I 
 prefer most animals. Now you take that dog 
 resting on your foot, I reckon he d die for you 
 and he s a fool dog at that." 
 
 Helen stooped to pat the long, silky ears. 
 Clown, dreaming, rolled over unresponsive. 
 
 "Not all your animals, Stone, would be so com 
 panionable as Clown." 
 
 "No, marm, that s my point. They all speak 
 out their natural feelings. You can depend upon 
 them for that." 
 
 "But is n t it lonely when the snow comes?" 
 she asked, after a pause. 
 
 Stone chuckled. "You may not believe it, but 
 the loneliest man I ever knew was a man by the 
 name of Stone in the crowd on Broad Street." 
 He pressed the tobacco down in the bowl of his 
 pipe. "When a man gets to be so busy that he has 
 to wire me to come clear to New York for a ten 
 minutes conversation I go away thinking." 
 
 "Thinking of what?" 
 
 "That I d be mighty glad to get back where 
 there s nobody disputing the air I m breathing. 
 
 298 
 
HELEN 
 
 We re tolerably full of business ourselves out here 
 most of the time, but we Ve got elbow-room to do 
 it in." 
 
 "What did he wire you for, Stone?" 
 
 "Oh, just to know first-hand how things were 
 going on." 
 
 "Nothing in particular, then." 
 
 "No, marm, nothing in particular. Stop your 
 noise, Clown. You ain t chasing no coyote." 
 
 "Is Mr. Fearing coming out this fall?" 
 
 "Maybe. He used to come regular. I reckon 
 the ranch has got to be a kind of plaything, such 
 as children get tired of. The last he wrote he said 
 he might be out in the fall after you d gone." 
 
 Helen was silent. 
 
 "If you ll excuse me for saying so, had n t you 
 better go inside? There s a fire lit. The nights 
 get sorter biting when the moon comes up." 
 
 "Yes. Good-night, Stone." 
 
 "Good-night, marm," he said, rising. 
 
 Clown rose, too, and after standing with his nose 
 to the door till convinced it was not to open again, 
 flopped down beside Stone. He laid his big hand 
 on the dog s flank, gathering up the loose young 
 skin in his grip, till the dog whined. "We know 
 one as will miss her, don t we," he said. 
 
 For answer Clown sat up, shaking his skin into 
 place, to observe the refilling and lighting of the 
 pipe, warily, his head askew. 
 
 "You re no such fool dog as they make out," 
 299 
 
HELEN 
 
 said Stone to himself. "You know more than the 
 whole pack." 
 
 Clown watched the spark of the match as it 
 sailed out over his sleeping kin, then lay down on 
 the doormat. 
 
 Two weeks later the moon was gonfe. So had 
 what Stone called Helen s kit, on the long trail to 
 the nearest railway station when Jack, who 
 had ridden over to Rosario to make his formal 
 bow of farewell, reined up before the verandah in 
 the dark. 
 
 "Helen, come in, quick I want to speak to 
 you." 
 
 He led the way to her room, closing the door 
 behind them. She saw that he was trembling. 
 
 "What s the matter, Jack dear?" 
 
 "Helen" his voice broke " I ve kissed her 
 
 I did n t mean to we could n t help it we 
 went for a ride just a little one for the last 
 time and the pony stumbled in a badger hole 
 
 I caught her and then I could n t let go 
 
 can t you understand " 
 
 Yes, she understood. The irrevocable had hap 
 pened. 
 
 "I ve got to tell Mr. Fearing what do you 
 think he ll say you ll stand by me, won t you, 
 Helen" 
 
 She took his hands in hers. "You really love 
 her, Jack?" 
 
 300 
 
HELEN 
 
 "More than anything else in the world." She 
 understood that, too. "And we are going to 
 morrow," he groaned. 
 
 "We need n t go to-morrow, dear. We will 
 stay another day, and I 11 ride over to Rosario 
 with you." 
 
 "Oh, Helen," he cried, flinging his arms around 
 her, "what a brick you are you re the dearest 
 girl in the world I knew you would." And they 
 talked together as they used to do, far into the 
 night. 
 
 At the door he held her close. He could feel her 
 heart beating against his own, and confession had 
 made him bold. 
 
 "Helen, you know we said once we would never 
 have any secrets from each other." She drew a 
 quick breath. "But we have." She made an 
 effort to free herself, but he held her the closer. 
 "You remember the night I came back from our 
 automobile excursion when I went over to see 
 you that was the first time. I did n t know 
 what it was. I was awfully glad to see you, and 
 when I kissed you Do you remember those 
 things in grandmamma s garden that curled up 
 when we touched them? You curled up, drew 
 back, I mean, just as they did. I did n t under 
 stand why I only felt it. Afterwards, I under 
 stood. You don t mind my speaking about it, do 
 you?" 
 She shook her head. 
 
 301 
 
HELEN 
 
 "Then, on the train, when we said good-bye, 
 I told you I wished it was Mr. Fearing. You 
 thought I was crazy yes, you did I was n t. 
 I Ve had a secret, too, from you you re sure 
 you don t mind my speaking of it?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 The strange thing was that he was riding rough 
 shod over her heart of hearts, and it did not hurt. 
 
 "I don t know how I knew it but I know he 
 loved you then " 
 
 "Oh, no, Jack, not then " 
 
 "I don t blame him. How could he help it!" 
 He tilted up the head on his shoulder till he could 
 look squarely into the eyes. "Be honest, Helen 
 if you did n t know then you know now." 
 
 "Yes, Jack, I do know now." 
 
 " I thought perhaps that that you thought 
 
 that because he stayed away so, he did n t " 
 "Don t, Jack, please" 
 
 His hand was under her chin still. "Helen, you 
 love him" the joy in his voice matched her 
 shining eyes "you might as well own up to it 
 
 then why don t you tell him Hilda did." 
 "Oh, Jack," she cried, yielding herself to his 
 
 pressure, "what a dear goose you are." 
 
 He laughed triumphantly. "I m glad I am. 
 
 I hate secrets. What are you crying for?" 
 She pushed him gently out the door and began 
 
 to undress. What was she crying for? Was it 
 
 because all the fulness and richness of life was 
 
 302 
 
HELEN 
 
 coming back? How could that be! What was 
 this new, this alien joy, forcing its way up through 
 the wreck of her spring world? or was it the same 
 unconquerable hunger of the heart, crushed under 
 foot like a growing thing, yet refusing to die till 
 satisfied? To be beloved! Did that suffice? Was 
 that enough to deaden memory, to put grieving to 
 sleep, to create her anew? It seemed as if some 
 unpitying hand were blotting out her past while 
 she stood by unpro testing, unmoved. 
 
 He had said once he was a little afraid of her. 
 The words had carried no meaning then, except 
 to bring a smile. She knew their meaning now, 
 had known it for a long time knew that at 
 the bottom of that fear was constant care and 
 thoughtfulness. It was not fear. It was what a 
 woman prizes above life. How should she let him 
 know that she knew, that she so prized it with 
 out shame for the unforgotten past? She could 
 not understand herself would he? Was she 
 beginning to be afraid of him? 
 
 Sleep answered none of these questions, taught 
 her no self-understanding. In the night nothing 
 happened. But riding over with Jack to Rosario 
 in the brilliant sunshine and the bracing morning 
 air, the world seemed good to live in. It was 
 strange, it was new but it was real. 
 
XXXIII 
 
 JACK S letter to Mr. Fearing was one of those effu 
 sions which make the reader weep or smile accord 
 ing to temperament and experience. Fearing had 
 no hesitancy as to his answer. Spring floods brook 
 no dam. One can only wait to see whether the 
 sources hold out or fail. He did not suggest the 
 latter alternative, a useless procedure in flood- 
 time and a belated one when the river-bed is dry. 
 His reply, couched in the friendly terms which 
 characterized all their relations, satisfied Jack. 
 If he felt any disappointment it was that so mo 
 mentous an event should cause so slight a ripple. 
 Helen s explanatory pages were more trouble 
 some. He had told her once he was a little afraid 
 of her. The truth was he was now afraid of him 
 self. But for Tatia s pseudo-fainting fit he might 
 never have acknowledged what that unguarded 
 moment had wrung from him when he saw Helen 
 slipping out of his life, as he thought then forever. 
 Fate had brought her back, bruised and inacces 
 sible, a wounded thing to care for, to shield from 
 himself from the hunger which came with her 
 loss and which she only could appease. He could 
 not live without it. He clung to it while holding 
 it at bay. For he loved her, and therefore wanted 
 her and it was no spring flood. 
 
 304 
 
HELEN 
 
 " Hilda is a very unusual girl," wrote Helen, 
 1 standing by Jack. " I do not say this out of loy 
 alty to my brother. My only thought is, as yours 
 will be, do they really know their own hearts? I 
 wish you could see her. We are leaving to-day 
 for St. Luke s, and I shall stay there till Jack is 
 settled. Afterwards could you lend me Peter? 
 I suppose there are other Peters to be had, but I 
 do not know them. I want to go off somewhere 
 and think." 
 
 Lend her Peter! He had been racking his brain 
 for two years to find ways to do for her. This 
 was the first time she had asked for anything. He 
 wrote at once. 
 
 "I think we " she noticed the we* and 
 smiled at the infelicity which followed "had 
 better seize the bull by the horns. I am going to 
 London for a month, perhaps longer. Why won t 
 you take my house at Sandhurst while I am away, 
 till your winter plans are made, and ask Hilda to 
 spend the month with you? The housekeeper, 
 Willis, is a good sort, and you will find Peter there. 
 I hope Hilda s grammar is good. Jack speaks only 
 of minor qualifications. I have written him by 
 this mail to stick to his books. His last year s re 
 port showed he was first in athletics in other 
 things rather close to the danger-line." Then, 
 with some misgivings, he indulged in a postscript. 
 " I hope this will appeal to you, and to Hilda. I 
 should like to see her." He read so much more 
 
 305 
 
HELEN 
 
 into both letter and postscript that he posted 
 them without re-reading, lest a rising fear of 
 gambling with fate should get the better of him. 
 
 As the day of sailing drew near without a reply, 
 he concluded postscript and all were a mistake, 
 and the pilot, dropping into his boat off Sandy 
 Hook, left ship and life empty. But on the way 
 to his room he met the mail clerk with a letter. 
 How did she know he was sailing by that steamer? 
 He had not mentioned it. And why had she not 
 addressed it to the office as she invariably did? 
 Between a steamer and an office letter was all the 
 difference between the personal and the imper 
 sonal. It was a very brief letter. It contained no 
 reference to Sandhurst, nor to Hilda except to 
 assure him he would find her grammar excellent. 
 Its brevity and silences were a contradiction of 
 her habitual straightforwardness. Was it merely 
 to thank him for lending her Peter, and was Sand 
 hurst so out of the question as not even to merit 
 mention? He argued these questions pro and con 
 all the way from Sandy Hook to Fastnet. 
 
 In London he did an impulsive thing entirely 
 foreign to his nature. He wrote Murray Brothers 
 to send the parcel in their keeping to Tatia. There 
 was not the slightest justification for making 
 such a gift to Tatia. Undoubtedly she would be 
 stunned. He was not considering what the effect 
 on Tatia would be. He was only burying the 
 past a little deeper, and in the small circle of his 
 
 306 
 
HELEN 
 
 acquaintances among the other sex Tatia was the 
 only grave available. 
 
 Coming on deck the first morning of the home 
 ward voyage, he saw a short, thick- set man jump 
 from a chair, and the familiar words: "Well, by 
 all the gods, if it is n t Fearing!" halted him like a 
 blow in the face. 
 
 Wrapped below the waist in a steamer rug from 
 which she emerged like a flower from its sheath in 
 most bewitching attire, Mrs. Stuart smiled up at 
 him pleasantly. 
 
 He made an effort to be cordial to Jim, who, 
 after his first explosion of glad surprise, explained 
 that they were bound for Florida never had 
 been there Madge s idea anything better 
 than London in winter had no idea he was on 
 board. 
 
 Into this torrent of words broke Madge s thin 
 voice. "You have n t had your morning cigar 
 yet, Jim. Give Mr. Fearing your chair. I want 
 to talk to him." 
 
 Taken aback in the midst of his flow of spirits, 
 Jim looked at his wife enquiringly. 
 
 "You can come back in half an hour," she said 
 with sweet decision. 
 
 Jim nodded, the expression on his face merging 
 from surprise to one of previous and complete 
 agreement. All he really understood was that 
 whatever Madge wished to confide- to Fearing 
 would be confided to him later. 
 
 307 
 
HELEN 
 
 "You need n t be afraid," said Madge to Fear 
 ing as Jim turned away; " I m clothed and in my 
 right mind." 
 
 Fearing knew Jim thoroughly. He was as trans 
 parent and as translucent as a window pane. 
 Looking down on Madge, he marvelled at the 
 variety in her, the confusing metamorphoses of 
 the eternally unchanging feminine. 
 
 "You really had better sit down. I can t talk 
 up to you." 
 
 Fearing sat down on the extension of the chair. 
 His was a forgiving nature. While Madge had 
 once stung him to fury, he remembered her malice 
 had been grounded in fact. 
 
 "You need n t be cross with me," she said, 
 lowering her voice; "I m not cross with you, 
 though I have every reason to be, for you were 
 nasty to me in Paris, when I was right and you 
 were shall we say evasive? But we won t rake 
 up old grudges and you need n t look so solemn. 
 I want to show you Helen." 
 
 Fearing started. They were Tatia s words. 
 
 " Men hate babies, I know," she smiled, turning 
 to the chair beside her, unwrapping a fluffy roll in 
 the arms of a nurse and disclosing a pink face and 
 two starry blue eyes, "but is n t she a perfect 
 darling? And the very image of Jim which is 
 too funny for words, for you know Jim never cared 
 for children." 
 
 Having achieved what was at once a diversion 
 308 
 
HELEN 
 
 and an introduction, she covered up the pink 
 morsel and unwound the rug from her own feet. 
 
 "But that s not what I wanted to talk to you 
 about. Give me your hand, please, and we ll go 
 over by the rail." 
 
 "If you wish me to talk " 
 
 "You need n t. You can listen. A lot of water 
 you know nothing about has run under the mill 
 since you lost your temper." She leaned over the 
 rail, looking down at the racing foam. "I admit 
 I was a bit nasty, too. She rubbed me the wrong 
 way. I thought she was proud, supercilious, and 
 that night at the station when I saw her " 
 
 "We won t discuss that, Madge." 
 
 She looked up quickly. "Well, what would you 
 have thought in my place? What did you think? 
 That it was a lie or a mistake, of course but it 
 worried you, and I meant it should. But that s 
 past history. Now I m going to tell you some 
 thing else I did that was nastier" her perfect 
 assurance and innocent blue eyes were stupefying. 
 "Did you know I was in Cairo when Trcourt 
 died? No, I thought not. Well, I was. I went to 
 the hospital out of common decency, and I stayed " 
 her eyes dropped to the racing bubbles again, 
 and her voice trailed off brokenly "out of 
 call it pity or remorse a mere boy, babbling 
 out his poor heart to me in delirium to me, of 
 all persons! He was worried, that was how I 
 knew you were, that your telegram was an after- 
 
 309 
 
HELEN 
 
 thought. Then came a letter from her. I took 
 it to him. He died with it in his hand. Afterwards 
 I took it to her but I read it first. It was n t 
 fair. I read the first sentence to see what it was 
 after that I defy any woman to have kept from 
 reading the rest." The pink deepened on her 
 cheeks and the hardness in her voice softened. 
 "You think I ought to be ashamed to confess it. 
 I am not. It did me such a lot of good. Don t you 
 think it s rather nice of me to own I needed it?" 
 The faint, ironic smile in her eyes saved her speech 
 from coquetry. He would not answer, and she 
 continued. " It was such a pitiful letter like a 
 mother s, torn in two between love and duty 
 she called it reason. It made me feel naked. 
 That s what I meant just now when I said I was 
 clothed and in my right mind. I don t know 
 whether she knew I read it or not I think she 
 did and I don t care. If she knew, she under 
 stood" 
 
 "Understood what?" 
 
 She made a despairing gesture. "I can t get 
 down on my hands and knees to you. If she did 
 n t understand, she would if she knew. I can t 
 make it any plainer. She let me name my baby 
 Helen. Being a rather stupid man, you probably 
 think that was a whim on my part. It was n t, 
 and I don t believe she thought so. You ought 
 not to be so very cross with me if I cared enough 
 for her to ask that." 
 
 310 
 
HELEN 
 
 "I am not cross with you at all," he said. 
 
 "Nor for speaking?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Then I ll say something else." She squared 
 her back to the rail, looking up at him humor 
 ously. "I suppose you call yourself a successful 
 man. How a man who has been as successful as 
 you have been can be such a fool about some 
 things passes belief. I was right in Paris, in spite 
 of all your fine denials, and I am right now. Any 
 one can see that." She caught the warning ex 
 pression on his face. "Fudge! Men think a wo 
 man has to be told. Women wait to be told 
 because it s conventional and agreeable, but it s 
 entirely superfluous so far as knowing is con 
 cerned." 
 
 She crossed the deck to her chair, and Jim, in 
 the door of the smoking-room, judging the parley 
 was over, sauntered down between them. 
 
 " I have been showing him Helen," said Madge, 
 smiling brightly. 
 
 "Oh, that s it, is it?" said Jim good-naturedly. 
 "I expected as much. Madge bores every one to 
 death about that kid of hers. I shall be lucky if I 
 have a friend left. I m damned glad to see you, 
 Fearing. What do you say to a walk?" 
 
 "You did n t have a row with Fearing, did you, 
 Madge?" Jim asked afterwards. 
 
 "Row! How ridiculous!" 
 
 "He was glum as an oyster." 
 
HELEN 
 
 "I did give him something to think of, but I 
 don t believe it made him glum." 
 
 For the remainder of the voyage she was tactful 
 enough not to renew their conversation. She had 
 had her say. But coming up the bay on the last 
 day he joined her at the rail, and she knew from 
 his manner he had something to say to her. The 
 towering windows above the Battery were a blaze 
 of light. She made no distracting remarks, con 
 scious that his mind was not on the view. 
 
 " Madge, I am very likely all you say I am, but 
 I can t make myself over. I must be myself. The 
 worst mistakes of my life were those in which I 
 tried to be somebody else." 
 
 She nodded. Then, after a silence: "It s not 
 you I am worrying about. But don t tempt me to 
 meddle with you. I should add a heaping table- 
 spoonful of self-conceit and that might spoil 
 you." 
 
 His secretary was at the landing-stage with 
 letters. He glanced them over. Nothing. The 
 crowded pier seemed lonely. 
 
 "There s no large luggage," he said, giving his 
 keys, "and nothing to declare. I shall go to the 
 Club to-night and be at the office in the morning." 
 
 He was looking about for Jack, who never let 
 slip an opportunity of this sort to break away 
 from school fetters. Was Jack growing wiser and 
 steadier? So much the better! And the loneliness 
 deepened. 
 
 312 
 
HELEN 
 
 Halfway down the pier-shed he saw Peter. 
 
 "What are you doing here, Peter?" he asked. 
 
 "Waiting for you, sir." 
 
 "You came in from Sandhurst?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Did Willis send you?" Willis ought to know 
 better. Willis knew he always went to the Club. 
 
 "No, sir; Miss Lee did." 
 
 "You can wait for my luggage, Peter." He 
 strove to ask no more questions, to keep his voice 
 natural. "Where is the car?" 
 
 "Just outside, sir opposite." 
 
 He stepped into the telephone booth and called 
 up Sandhurst. 
 
 "Is that you, Willis?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Can I speak to Miss Lee?" 
 
 "Good Lord, sir! I hope nothing has hap 
 pened. She s not here, sir she " 
 
 " Not there " 
 
 " No, sir. I told her as how you always went to 
 the Club, but she would order the motor. She 
 started" 
 
 He hung up the receiver. He was trembling 
 like a child. Beyond the gate the dock was 
 jammed with trucks and motors. He forced his 
 way between them to the limousine on the oppo 
 site side of the street Peter always managed 
 to be first in line and turned the handle of the 
 door. 
 
 313 
 
HELEN 
 
 "Helen" 
 
 He spoke into the darkness as if no one was 
 there. He could not believe it. 
 
 " Yes it s Helen." 
 
 Even now, holding her in his arms, he refused 
 to believe holding her off, to read it in her eyes. 
 
 "You asked me to come I have come to stay." 
 
 He caught her to him again, their breaths 
 mingling. The eyes closed again with a long sigh 
 of submission. 
 
 "Don t, dear," she murmured. 
 
 It was seventy miles to Sandhurst. 
 
 Willis was at the door as the warning bell rang 
 from the lodge-gate. Helen fled past her through 
 the hall and up the stairs before a word was 
 spoken. Something seemed to have ruffled Wil 
 lis s temper. 
 
 "You ll be staying here to-night, then," she 
 said in answer to Fearing s welcome. 
 
 "No, not to-night, Willis. I shall be out early 
 in the morning." 
 
 "It s pretty nearly morning already," she said 
 grimly. "I told Miss Lee" 
 
 "It sail right, Willis." 
 
 "You won t have a bit of supper of break 
 fast, I mean, sir?" 
 
 "No, thanks." 
 
 "Not even a cup of tea, sir?" She was follow 
 ing him down the steps. "I put Miss Lee in the 
 
 314 
 
HELEN 
 
 west wing, and the young lady being timid- 
 like next her in " 
 
 " Quite right, Willis, good-night." 
 
 The motor started. She watched its red light 
 as it sped down the driveway. 
 
 "I don t blame him for being vexed," she mut 
 tered wrathfully. "Folks as don t know other 
 folks habits are always interfering. Think of 
 dragging him out here at past midnight and he 
 so good-natured for nothing!" 
 
 She closed the door with a bang, locked it, and 
 began to turn out the lights. 
 
 In far-away Petersburg Tatia, opening a sealed 
 package from Murray Brothers, was at that mo 
 ment very near to fainting in dead earnest, for 
 Tatia was an excellent judge of pearls and quick 
 in jumping to conclusions. She shared them 
 with Dimitri and Alexis on the instant without 
 waiting for confirmation. 
 
 Dimitri said nothing. 
 
 Alexis drew a long breath. 
 
 "What are you thinking of, Alexis?" Tatia 
 challenged. 
 
 "I was thinking of that poor boy in Egypt. 
 We seem to have forgotten him." 
 
 Tatia kindled. "We forget nothing that is 
 real she said "nor refuse it either." 
 
 THE END 
 
(Cfte fitoertfbe 
 
 CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS 
 U . S . A 
 

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 1960 
 
 LD 21-100m-l, 54(1887sl6)476 
 
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 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY